


Destiny Put Us All in One Spot

by Liberte_Egalite_Broadway



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Artist John, Basically multiple chapters of trio fluff, But again I don't care if you ship it romantically, But like in a platonic way, Families of Choice, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Henry Laurens is a terrible person, Human Disaster Alexander Hamilton, Hurt/Comfort, Just read it and then things will make sense, Kind of sterotype but hopefully still good?, Lafayette is a cinnamon roll, Laflams, Lots and lots and lots of Laflams, Multi, Not intended slash but if you ship it like that it's cool man, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Platonic Soulmates, Polyplatonic Relationships, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-09-13 00:09:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 72,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9096601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liberte_Egalite_Broadway/pseuds/Liberte_Egalite_Broadway
Summary: When children enter the adolescent years, a mark appears on their wrist. Somewhere in the world, this mark has a twin, found on the wrist of the person's soulmate. In a world where destiny is as ordinary as growing up, people find their soulmate and, more often than not, settle down and build a life with them. Still, love can't fix everything. There are still people who hide from the fear that fills the world, when what is truly needed is a person who can step out and speak their mind. A person who can change things, not with guns or bombs, but with words. One young man believes he can be this person, but his words are not the only thing that sets him apart. In this world, 90% of the population receives a soulmark. 9.9% live without. Alexander Hamilton has two.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> My friend, ThatOneOtaku, came up with the title, which is based around the line from "My Shot". Thanks, Otaku! Read her fics y'all, they're awesome. 
> 
> Anyway, I'll try to update frequently, but who knows if that will happen. Basically it's going to be angsty, fluffy Trio adorableness, because I love Lamsette/trio/whatever-the-ship-name is and there's not enough of them out there. It is a platonic soulmate AU, but if you ship it romantically, fine by me. Hopefully you'll enjoy the fic anyway. Do whatever you want (I'm super dead).

~Nine years earlier~

Alexander looked up as the teacher entered the room, and quickly hid the book he'd been reading under the desk.  _That was close._

"Hello," she said cheerfully. "I'm glad to see you all made it. I apologize that I'm late." She leaned against her desk, to Alexander's surprise. Usually, she stood to the side and showed her lesson on the projector. _Then again,_ he remembered,  _today isn't a normal lesson._

_"You guys finished the first unit in health?" Alexander's cousin had said earlier that week. "Well, then you're going to get The Talk pretty soon."_

_"The Talk?" Alexander had asked, sitting down. "You mean..." He felt a blush creep up his cheeks as Peter started laughing._

_"No, not THAT talk. The other talk." He pushed up his sleeve and held out his arm. "The soulmate talk."_

_"Ohhh," Alexander had replied, much relieved. "Wait, what?"_

_Peter snorted and pointed to his wrist, and Alexander pushed back the cuff his cousin always wore. There, printed on his wrist, was a small black mark, shaped vaguely like a spade on playing cards. Alexander looked up at his cousin._

_"That's your soulmark?"_

_"Yup." Peter pulled his hand back and fixed both the cuff and the sleeve. "Still haven't found her, though. I bet you think you know all about soulmates, right?"_

_Alexander nodded. He was always doing research. "Yes, I think so."_

_"Well, you don't. So pay attention to your teacher." Peter tousled his hair._

"I'd like all of you to pay special attention today," his teacher said now, echoing Peter's reminder. "The matter we are going to discuss is very important." 

Alexander heard some of the other students sit up a little. The teacher leaned forward a little. 

"As you know, a person's body changes when they enter puberty -"

Nervous giggles filled the room, and she smiled. 

"Yes, we're going to be talking about puberty. But this isn't one of the physical aspects. A person's body changes in puberty. One of these changes is very small, yet it is often considered to be the most important. This is the appearance of a soulmark." 

She held up her arm, and with her other hand, pointed to her wrist. 

"This mark will help you to find the person who completes you," she said. "Just as everyone has a heart and a brain, everyone has a soul. Souls, like fingerprints, are unique. Unlike fingerprints, however, there is one soul in the world that matches yours. And you will know this person when you see their matching mark. Now, if you get out your textbooks, you'll see an example of a soulmark." 

The sound of rustling papers filled the room. Alexander raised his hand. 

"Isn't it true that some people don't have a mark?" 

"Yes, Alexander, that is true, about one-tenth of the population. It's likely some of you will grow up and never receive a mark. Now -"

"I already have mine," said one boy triumphantly. 

"Yeah, me too." 

"Good for you!" The teacher smiled. "Anyway -"

"What if you have two?" someone interrupted. 

"I beg your pardon?" The teacher leaned towards the speaker and cupped her ear. 

"What if you have two?" the girl repeated. "Because my cousin does. She has two soulmarks." 

The teacher frowned. "Does she? Well, that's a very rare occurrence, so I don't think any of you will have to worry about that." 

"But if you -"

"As you can see," she continued, not wanting to waste time on hypotheticals, "soulmarks sometimes have a shape that will indicate the type of person you may meet. The example in this diagram is a soulmark that resembles a dagger. A dagger is a very generic shape, so multiple pairs might have it - though it will look slightly different from pair to pair." 

"What does it feel like when the mark appears?" someone asked. 

"Excellent question. There is a strong burning sensation that can be quite painful and can start at any moment. It only lasts a few seconds, though." 

"What's your mark look like?" 

"My mark is shaped like a tree, and is a perfect match for my husband's."

"Do people always have to marry their soulmate?"

"So many questions!" The teacher laughed. "Let's just continue the lesson, all right? I'm sure I'll answer every question you may have along the way."

Alexander got out a sheet of notebook paper. As he did, he glanced down at his wrist and ran a finger over it, wondering. 

 

He was sitting on his bed doing homework when it happened. 

One moment his hands were flying across the keys of his laptop. The next, he wrenched them back with a cry as searing pain shot across his wrists. Both of his wrists. 

It felt like a red-hot iron had been pressed against his wrists. Vaguely, Alexander remembered the lesson months and months before, when the teacher had described the pain as a "strong burning sensation", which seemed, to him, to be under exaggerating.  He squeezed his eyes shut tight and screamed into his pillow, and then, just as quickly as it had started, the pain stopped. 

Alexander lifted his head out of the pillow. He reached out to push up his right sleeve, but as he did so, he noticed a mark on his left wrist. He held up his arm and looked at it. There, printed onto his wrist as though it had always been there, was a small black mark shaped vaguely like a quill pen. 

_But I thought they were usually on your right wrist..._

_Oh no._  Nervously, Alexander looked at his other wrist. 

Printed there was a small black shield. 

Alexander stared, stumped, at his wrists, wondering if there had been some mistake. Slowly understanding, which could no longer be pushed away, dawned on him. 

_I have two soulmates._

Alexander pushed down his sleeves and ran, crying, "Peter!" 


	2. Waiting and Wondering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nine years later, college-age Alexander contemplates what having two soulmates will mean for him and when he's going to meet them.

_The freshmen seem unusually out of it this year,_ Alexander noticed as he walked across campus. Two days into the school year, and it seemed like none of them had any idea where they were going. 

When he had been a freshman, Alexander remembered, kicking a stone, he had bought maps of King's University and stayed up late memorizing them. He'd traced every route to class, figured out where the nearest bathrooms were along his path, even practiced on visiting day with a timer in hand. It would appear that none of these students had employed any similar tactics. But then, that was to be expected. 

"Yo, Alexander, wait up!" 

Alexander turned to see his old roommate, Aaron, running to catch up. He slowed his pace, and Aaron fell into step beside him. "How have you been?"

"Not bad," said Alexander. 

"Nice day, huh?" asked Aaron cheerfully. 

"Sure." Alexander looked around. "Minus the first-years crashing into you." 

"Excuse me," said one girl, running up to them as if on cue. "Where can I find the, um..." She looked down at a piece of paper in her hand. "Drew Building?" 

"Down that way and take a left." Alexander pointed. "Tallest building on the right, but you'd better run or you'll be late."

"Thanks." She sped away. Aaron chuckled.

"Poor things."

Alexander shouldered his backpack. "Whatever." He looked over at Aaron, who seemed to be bouncing up and down as he walked. "You're strangely bubbly today." 

"Am I?" Aaron beamed, something he almost never did. 

"Okay, let me guess." Alexander stopped in his tracks and stood in front of his friend. "You found your soulmate?" 

"You got me." Aaron held out his hands. "But you'll be strange and bubbly too, when yours come along." 

Alexander grinned. "That's great, Aaron. What's her name?" He arched an eyebrow. "Her name? His name?"

"Her name," Aaron confirmed. "It's Theodosia. She's funny and gorgeous and..." He trailed off. "Hey, you're laughing at me." 

"No I'm not." Alexander squeezed his friend's shoulder. "I'm just really happy for you." 

"Thanks." Aaron smiled. "Hey, you should meet her at some point! I've told her about you." 

Alexander snorted. "Well, don't scare the girl away." He glanced at his watch. "Anyway, I've got to run or I won't make it. See you soon?" 

"Sure thing," said Aaron. "Bye!" He waved as Alexander headed off. 

 _Good for him,_ Alexander thought as he walked. So far, he'd known three friends who had found their soulmates, and the discovery was usually accompanied by euphoria and inexplainable bounciness. It was cute to watch. He wondered if he would be like that one day, just as foolish and head-over-heels. 

And it seemed that in most cases, the euphoria didn't wear off - or the bounciness. All the friends he'd seen fall in love stayed that way and never questioned, well, anything. 

Alexander looked down at his wrists, at the small shield and the quill peeking out from under the cuffs of his sweater. Even though there were other people with multiple marks, it was such a small percentage that the law still banned polygamy. _Which is fine,_ Alexander thought.  _I might not even have time for my soulmates to begin with, so getting married is not ideal._ Still, these thoughts were in a mind that had never known anything other than hard work and intelligence. When he met them, would everything change? 

He pulled open the door and walked up the stairs to his lecture hall. Lately, he'd been thinking a lot about his future soulmates. Most people he knew had met theirs by now, and research had showed him that the average age someone met their soulmate was nineteen.  _Then again, all the kids who meet theirs very young might skew the data._ Alexander went into the lecture hall, sat down, and took out a notebook.  _Focus on something else. They'll come when they come._

 

His apartment was nice enough - fairly small, but nice. The only downside was being alone and having to do everything for himself. He'd turned the other bedroom into an office/study, where he worked on the commissions from publications that had accepted him and pitches to the ones that hadn't. With a nine-page essay due in two days, a history text to finish, a minor article for  _New York Online_ that he hadn't even started, and a million other things to wrap up or begin, it didn't look like he'd be sleeping tonight. Looking back, choosing to carry twenty credits might have been a mistake.

"I'm home," he shouted as he locked the door behind him. He always did that. It was stupid, but he figured he might as well get into the habit.

Alexander set his bag on the floor, took out a folder, and tossed his keys into the small basket he kept by the door. Shuffling through papers in the folder, he crossed the room and started a pot of strong coffee without even glancing at it.  

_Okay, they only want 10,000 words on this one. I might be able to catch an hour of sleep after all._

He set down the folder, poured the coffee, and walked into his study. With the rim of the mug, he flicked his radio on, and with the other hand, pulled open the drawer to his desk. As he worked, the news anchor droned on about worsening situations in the Middle East and tension in the government. Alexander barely listened. It was mostly background noise, and it rarely ever changed from day to day. 

 

Around midnight he took a break to eat a small dinner and stretch.  _I'm so tired. Better fix that._

He chugged his fourth mug of black coffee and went over to the window of his study. The view over the city was one of the best things about this apartment. It was nice to watch the world sleep and be one of the few awake. It felt like everything belonged to him, just because no one else would be awake to claim it instead. A foolish notion, but strangely comforting.

 _Somewhere out there in the world, there are two people waiting for me,_  he thought. _Wondering about me... well, they're probably asleep,_ he amended, smiling a little. He stepped closer to the glass and rested a hand against it, staring out over the world. 

_Where are you?_


	3. Discovered Shields

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander and his friend Eliza talk. Across the campus, a French boy struggles to fit in. And Alexander notices.
> 
> Then he decides to help out, and the world will never be the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For storytelling purposes, Angelica and Eliza are adopted sisters, because I wanted them to be soulmates and it wouldn't make sense for blood relations to be soulmates. 
> 
> Also, King's College is now known as Columbia University, but a lot of the rules at Columbia would mess up the plot I've laid out in a couple minor ways. Therefore, I'm using King's as a fictional college, a top-notch one set in NYC, and I'm laying down the rules myself. I've been onto the actual Columbia campus, by the way. Very, very nice place. Might want to apply there someday... anyway, back to the story!

When not working, he spent his Saturdays with Eliza Schuyler, his friend and sort-of girlfriend. The two got along remarkably well - so well that when they'd first started going out, Alexander had to check her wrists just to be sure. But her left wrist was blank, and her right bore a small rose-shaped mark that matched her sister, Angelica. 

"Your soulmate is your sister?" Alexander had said, confused. Blood relations were almost never soulmates, and if they were, the connection would be very distant. 

Eliza had laughed. "Well, she's not my biological sister. I'm adopted."

Alexander had flushed. "Wait, your sister is Angelica Schuyler?" He'd gone out with her on numerous occasions, until she dumped him. 

"Yes." Eliza had laughed again - something she did often - and took his arm. "She told me about you, by the way. No, but it's really nice to have a sister as a soulmate. There's not any... pressure, you know? I mean," and she'd snorted, "it's not like I'm going to _marry_ my sister." 

"I guess not," Alexander had replied with a chuckle. 

"It's better, though. Angelica says that research shows people who stay friends with their soulmates are happier. That way, they can choose a spouse for themselves."

"Huh." Alexander had shrugged. "Neat. Can you have her send that to me?"

Eliza had nodded. "Anything for you," she replied playfully.

Now, he watched her as her hands moved across her piano. They were at her house, which was a short walk from his apartment and a slightly longer walk from the King's Campus. "You're good at that," he said. 

"Thanks." Eliza beamed, then stood up as she finished the song. "Gosh, it's such a nice day today." She stretched her arms above her head, then reached over and took his hand. "Hey, let's go for a walk."

Alexander arched an eyebrow. "A walk where?" 

"I don't know. Around your campus, how about." She let go of his hand to slip on a jacket. "I'd like to see it." Eliza went to school online, and aside from dates with him, rarely ever got out of the house.

Alexander smiled and took her hand again. 

"Okay. Follow me." 

 

They walked down the main path, under the newly-turning trees. Eliza held onto his arm and chattered away about the beauty of the season. There were a few other students milling about the campus, including a few freshmen trying to learn the way around. Alexander nodded approvingly. A week of being lost had knocked some sense into them, after all. He glanced up at the red and orange leaves, drifting through the air and onto the path, thinking of all the essays he had left to write, and the pitch that he really needed to get out if he wanted any chance...

"Hey," said Eliza suddenly, snapping him out of his thoughts. Alexander looked over at her, and saw that her gaze was turned towards a freshman several dozens yards away. He was talking in another language to an upperclassman, who appeared intent on pushing him away. "Is he speaking French?" 

"Sounds like it," said Alexander, watching as the freshman tried to grab the other student, and was shoved onto the ground. "Aw, poor kid." 

"Do you want to go help him?" Eliza suggested. 

He was about to do just that, when the freshman got up, dusted himself off, and ran in the other direction. 

"I guess he doesn't need it." He covered her hand with his again. "Come on, let's keep going." 

 

Across the campus, the freshman boy stopped behind one of the buildings. No one was around.

He bent over, gasping to catch his breath, tears stinging in his eyes. Stupid tears, he was eighteen, he shouldn't be crying at silly things anymore. 

Why did everyone hate him? He just needed help, and everyone was so cruel... did he do something wrong? Should he just go home?

He curled up on the staircase and cried into his jacket. 

 

 

 

On Monday, he overslept. Cursing, Alexander scrambled out of bed and into his clothes. He threw his backpack over his shoulders and flew out the door without stopping to grab anything to eat on the way.  _How did I miss the alarm? If I'm late for class and I tank my GPA..._ The thought made him quicken his pace. He ran the entire way to campus, and managed to arrive with a few minutes to spare before class started. Suddenly he collided with someone and tripped. 

"Yo, watch where you're going," the other student shouted as Alexander got up and kept running, not stopping to apologize. 

He was almost to his building when he noticed a freshman shouting desperately into his cell phone. With a jolt, Alexander realized it was the same boy he'd seen while walking with Eliza. The younger student didn't seem to see where he was going, and nearly walked into Alexander.  

"Hey," Alexander said, holding out an arm. The boy looked up, jumped, and quickly pocketed his phone. 

" _Excusez moi, monsieur,_ " he exclaimed, stepping away. " _Je suis tellement désolé_ -" 

"Whoa, calm down," said Alexander. "Hey. It's alright." 

The boy had light brown skin, dark brown eyes, and about a thousand corkscrew curls, gathered into a tight ponytail at the back of his head. He was tall and strangely beautiful, so much so that he almost looked like a girl. His face was twisted with concern, and he drew into himself and away from Alexander as he continued to rattle off apologies. Alexander held out a hand, trying to calm him. "What's your name?" he asked in French. 

The boy's face lit up, and he relaxed a little. "You speak French?" 

"I've been taking French since seventh grade. Do you need help?" 

Rather than answering, the freshman laughed, jumped forward, and hugged Alexander tight. "No one here has spoken -" he began.

And then he froze.

For a moment, Alexander wondered if the freshman was just scared. To calm him, he said, "hey, it's alright," and brought his arms around the boy in return.

Suddenly the world...  _changed._

It still looked the same, only... brighter, somehow, and clearer - as if there had been a shadow or a veil over everything before, which was suddenly pulled back. The colors were more vivid; everything in sight seemed to glow. His heart stopped and then started racing. The sun shone down onto him, warmer than he had ever known it to be, and all the thoughts that had been on his mind... were gone.

Alexander froze as well, and then slowly felt his entire being surging with a joy he had never known before. It was overwhelming and impossible and beautiful, and tears suddenly stung at his eyes, which turned towards the French boy in his arms. "I-" Alexander began, but the freshman was already pulling away. He grabbed Alexander's hand and pulled back his sleeves, then pressed their wrists side-by-side.

He had the mark. The same black shield, exactly the same size and shape. 

Alexander swallowed, his heart hammering. "I don't even know your name," he whispered, still in French. 

The freshman - his  _soulmate_  - lifted his enormous, beautiful eyes from their matching wrists and smiled. "Call me Lafayette," he said. "And you?" 

What was his name? He could hardly remember.

"A-alexander," he stammered at last. "Alexander Hamilton." 

"Alexander," Lafayette whispered, testing it out. He beamed, and then, in typical French fashion, kissed Alexander lightly on both cheeks. "It's nice to meet you, Alexander. I have a feeling we're going to be good friends." 

Alexander laughed through the tears forming in his eyes. _I shouldn't be crying..._  

Lafayette hugged him again. Alexander buried his face in his soulmate's shoulder and wept. 


	4. Lafayette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander spends some time getting to know Lafayette, and discovers that his soulmate is the human incarnation of a cinnamon roll. Kawaii Hobbit hasn't updated since last year. ;p Shameless fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How in the world do I have forty four kudos?!?!?!?! You guys must be crazy or something, because when I read back through this all I notice is mistakes and poor writing. Are you all blind? Are my friends forming a conspiracy to make me happy? *Sonny voice* What's going on, what's going on...
> 
> Well anyway, since it seems some people do like it (in fact some of you are following it) please leave me a review telling me what you thought. Constructive criticism is welcome - encouraged! - and also any ideas you might have as to where you'd like to see this fic go. I'm writing this for you to read, after all!

The world had never seemed so bright before. 

Now, after classes, Alexander would go home to his apartment, open the door, kick off his shoes, and throw his bag on the floor. When he called, "I'm home", he was no longer greeted by silence, emptiness, and the sound of the door slamming shut behind him. Instead, he would be welcomed into the apartment with -

"ALEXANDER!" Lafayette exclaimed, tackle-hugging him as he came through the door. "You're back! What took you so long?" 

"I had to check something with my professor," said Alexander, in French as always, as he tried to simultaneously set down his bag, step into the apartment, untangle his soulmate's arms from around him, and ward off the kisses that Lafayette always tried to press onto his cheeks. _Curse_ _the French and their sappy greetings..._

His soulmate had walked over after classes - it was a system they figured out relatively quickly, after that one day when they met, Alexander skipped a few classes - he winced at the memory - and brought Lafayette to see his apartment. His soulmate still lived in the dorms on campus, but after his classes, which ended earlier than Alexander's, he'd walk over to the apartment, let himself in with the key Alexander had given him, and start both his homework and a pot of coffee for Alexander, who usually arrived about an hour later. He'd spend the day there and then go back to his dorm, though on several occasions, he'd stayed too long and had to sleep on the couch. 

"What do you have to do today?" Lafayette asked, practically skipping across the kitchen to get a mug of coffee for Alexander. 

"Not a lot. I'm off the hook with publications until my pending submissions come in. What about you?" 

Lafayette turned away guiltily. Alexander smirked. 

"Okay, I know that look. You haven't done any of your homework, have you?"

"Noooo..." 

"You need to do that, Laf, or they can kick you out." 

Lafayette frowned and cocked his head to the side. "But then where would I learn anything?" 

"They don't really care about that." Alexander went into the kitchen and reached for the mug, which Lafayette held above his head. "Hey, give me that." 

"You're short! It's so cute!" 

"Lafayette, I swear, give me the coffee or you're dead." Alexander reached up for it, and Lafayette stepped back. Alexander tripped on his soulmate's foot and stumbled forward, and Lafayette caught him and grabbed him in a one-armed hug. 

"What would happen if you went one day without coffee?" he asked.

Alexander tilted his head back to look up at him. "That is a very personal question, and I don't know you well enough to feel comfortable answering it." 

Lafayette snorted and pushed him away, handing him the coffee. Alexander grinned and took it. "Go and write your essays, you worthless creature," said the freshman, shoving him towards the study.

Alexander walked down the hall, unable to banish the ridiculous smile from his face.

It had been two weeks since they found each other. Though the world was the same place, with the same people, the same news stories, and the same three songs playing on repeat on the radio, it was still somehow different. He understood why Aaron had been acting strangely - he noticed all the same traits in himself now. Unexplainable joy drawn from everything, even the things he used to hate. 

Lafayette was, by far, the sweetest person Alexander had ever met. He was almost naive in the way he took pleasure from everything and saw the best in everyone, amending even when something was wrong that no one was perfect - though sometimes it seemed like he might be. Two weeks, and Alexander had yet to find anything wrong with Lafayette.

If there was one thing he would change, though, it would be Lafayette's right wrist. His left had the shield, the match for Alexander's, but his right had a small diamond, which meant - 

_That someday, there's going to be someone other than me._

Alexander sat down at his desk and ran his finger absently over the shield. What were the odds that he'd not only have two soulmates, but that one of them would also have _another_ soulmate? When he'd first seen that diamond, Alexander hadn't been sure how to feel about it - in fact, he still wasn't sure how he felt about it. Lafayette didn't seem to mind the small quill pen, but then, he had a family - at least, Alexander assumed he did. They hadn't talked about it yet. He had other people he'd loved all his life. But he, Alexander, had only Eliza, and he only saw her on some Saturdays. Now that he'd met Lafayette, and could see him every day... 

Thinking of Eliza reminded him of what she had said about Angelica.  _"Angelica says that research shows people who stay friends with their soulmates are happier."_

_Maybe I'll be his friend, and some gorgeous French girl will come and take him away._ He was fine with the first part of that, but the rest...

He closed his eyes, then opened them again and turned back to the work he had.  _Don't get ahead of yourself. There's a lot to be done._

Alexander worked on an essay for about a bit, before the door to his study creaked open, and he heard Lafayette's soft footsteps cross the room. There was a scraping sound of wood on wood as he pulled a chair alongside Alexander's and flopped down into it.

"What are you doing?" he asked, peeking over Alexander's shoulder. 

"Still working on my essay." 

Lafayette pointed to the screen. "You only have a paragraph. Have you been working on it this whole time?" 

"Nah. I've been distracted."

"Oh, really?" Lafayette rested his chin on the top of Alexander's head; Alexander stiffened a little, and Lafayette laughed. "I've noticed something," he said. "You Americans are so  _squeamish._ You barely want to touch each other." He placed a hand on Alexander's shoulder. "I mean, I'm used to greeting people affectionately. It's better, see? Because then you like everyone and they like you and everything's good and nothing hurts. Except the people you don't like, and you really want to slap them, so you don't kiss them and it's awkward." He took his hand off Alexander's shoulder and tapped his chin gently, turning Alexander's head towards his. "But here in America, you don't greet with a kiss. Or a hug. Sometimes not even a handshake. Is that why you're all so cold?" 

"Are we cold?" 

"Some of you. Not you, though. You're different." Lafayette beamed. "That's why I like you." He glanced over at the essay. "Hey, you've barely written anything." 

"It's not my fault. You've made me stupid." He gave a wry smile. "All your talking and your eyes and your crazy hair have made me stupid."

"You hate it?"

"To be honest, I kind of love it." 

"Do you love me?" 

Alexander turned back to the laptop. "I... think I do." He cleared his throat. "But I wouldn't really know. I never have before. Loved someone, I mean." 

"Hmm." Lafayette sat back, then said, "Maybe I can fix that."

Alexander smiled. "Maybe you can." 

It was true that he wouldn't know. He thought he loved Peter, once, but then his cousin was convicted of robbery and thrown in jail, and Alexander had been alone, shunted through the foster care system until he finally made it to college - a year early - and got to take care of himself. There had been girlfriends and friends and roommates, but none of them lasted - he wasn't even sure if Eliza would last - and none of them had ever meant much to him.

Then this French boy walked into his life with all his fast talk and affectionate mannerisms and crazy hair, _and_ _now suddenly everything is better._ Alexander was happy, and he had someone who belonged to him. He looked over at his soulmate and decided that, yes, he loved Lafayette. More than he'd ever loved anything. 

Somehow, though, Alexander didn't think he loved Lafayette in a romantic way. It felt almost like the freshman was a part of him, a missing piece that he'd never realized was missing - as if they've known each other their whole lives and even before. And if they were created to find each other, all that was understandable, but somehow it felt... deeper than whatever romance was supposed to be - not that he'd understand that either, Alexander recognized. He felt like he could turn around right now and tell Lafayette all the worst things about him and his soulmate would only say, "No one is perfect." He hadn't thought any bond could be that strong. 

Alexander sighed a little, and Lafayette put a hand on his arm. 

"Is something wrong?" 

"No. Nothing." Alexander smiled and accepted the hug Lafayette wrapped him up in. "It's just that for once, something is right." He closed his eyes. "Everything is right." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know we all want John. He's coming, I PROMISE! Patience is a virtue.
> 
> Virtue? A fig! 
> 
> Still, be willing to wait for it. John will come. I swear.


	5. Nothing Changes, Nothing Ever Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world is a dark, dark place. Alexander and Lafayette wonder how to change that. Encouraged by his soulmate (and now roommate as well), Alexander picks up the pen... er, laptop, and writes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's play a game called "guess what the title of the chapter came from". If you understood that reference, let me know in the comments and I'll give a shoutout to you in the next chapter. And also let me know what you think, as usual. Pretty pretty please with Daveed Diggs on top? Come on, a please can't get prettier than that.
> 
> By the way, I know that this fic is very affectionate - no one seems to have a problem with it, but in case anyone does, just let me say that I think when people defy the unspoken rules our culture has laid and treat each other in a way that is sweet and loving - that is always a good thing. Love is a good thing. Friendship love is my jam. So if you're offended by Lafayette and Hamilton holding hands and stuff... I'm really sorry, but it's not gonna change. And when John comes you can expect a lot more affection. I think it's adorable. Hopefully y'all do too and I'm not scaring you away.

"The house and the senate are currently debating this issue," said the news anchor, "but it seems that so far, they still have been unable to come to a consensus." 

"As if that's anything new," Alexander grumbled. He was lounging on his couch reading, with the radio playing in the background. So far, it had provided only annoyance, instead of bringing him up to date on the issues in the world.  _Maybe I should just turn it off._

"What's going on?" 

Alexander turned around to see Lafayette standing at the door to the living room, where he was sprawled across the couch. He waved his soulmate over. "It's the same as always," he said, as Lafayette took a seat on the armrest seat next to his head. "The government's debating immigration. They've been doing that for years, and nothing ever changes." 

Lafayette frowned. "Why? Isn't immigration a good thing?" 

"Of course it is. Illegal immigration, not so much. The things is, though, the system is messed up and it's nearly impossible for people from Mexico to get in here, and sometimes they have no choice. Rather than fixing that, the government argues and argues and the people are blind. Nothing ever changes." Alexander shrugged. "I don't know. It makes me angry." 

Lafayette was silent for a moment. "What about terrorism?" he asked finally. "Are they debating that?"

"Yeah. And not doing anything." 

"Why don't _you_ do something, then?"

"Like what?" 

Lafayette tapped the closed laptop on the stand beside the couch. "You could write a story, and tell the people what's going on." 

"I think you mean essay, not story. Either way, I've tried, Laf." He stretched and laid back. "No one cares. They like to think they do. People go on and on about all the issues, but in the end they just turn it into a fight and move further away from the actual problem. We're a country full of idiots." Alexander sighed. "Okay, that's going too far. We're not idiots, really, I guess, but..." 

"But you act like it." 

"Yup." 

Lafayette considered this, then said quietly, "I don't understand you Americans." 

"Yeah," Alexander muttered, "Well, I've been one for twelve years, and I don't-"

"But there's something about you," Lafayette continued loudly, cutting him off. "Some fire in you. That's why I wanted to come study here in the first place." He leaned back. "I came here once before, you know. When I was younger. I loved it here, and from then on I told my grandmother I wanted to go to college in America." 

"You lived with your grandmother?" 

"Yes, and she told me I was crazy." He laughed. "Maybe I am. But either way, I'm here now... and you're here with me." He smiled down at Alexander for a moment, then picked up the laptop and handed it to him. "Write something for me, Alexander Hamilton," Lafayette murmured. 

He got up and left the room. Alexander watched him go, then flipped open the laptop and clicked open a new document. 

 

Time passed. Alexander started an essay, like Lafayette had asked him to, detailing some of the most important issues, calling the government out for their blatant ignorance of the facts. Eventually the essay hit forty pages and Alexander decided that this was going to be a series, a group of essays that he could publish over the course of several weeks - if he could find someone to publish it. 

Around his thirtieth page, he found out that Lafayette was currently living in his dorm alone, ever since his roommate requested a switch on the first day of school. 

"I tried to kiss him on the cheek and he freaked out," Lafayette had explained. "Then I apologized and tried to explain that I was French, and that was how people greet each other there. I guess my English wasn't good enough, because he didn't seem to understand what I was saying." He looked crestfallen. 

Alexander had to stifle a laugh. "Well, why don't you come live with me?" he'd offered, reaching over to squeeze his friend's shoulder. "I mean, you're here all the time, anyway. You could make it official." 

"Can I move out this late in the semester?"

"I'm fairly sure you can. You'll probably have to keep paying till the semester ends, though..." 

"I really don't want to burden you like that, though." 

Surprised, Alexander said, "What? No, I  _want_ you to come stay here." He closed the laptop and took his soulmate's hand in his, so that the two shields on their wrists were pressed together. "You're not a burden," he said. "You never would be. You're my friend - you're my soulmate, and I love you." He had laughed a little. "I'm actually  _asking_ you to come live here. I've been meaning to ask you for a while. So will you at least think about it?" 

Lafayette had smiled. 

Now Alexander sat, still working on his essay. His hands moved across the laptop keys. Into his left ear was plugged a single earbud, the other dangling above the screen, and against his right ear was his cell phone as he argued with the receptionist at the  _New Yorker._

"No, I'm not asking for a commission. That doesn't even make - what? No, I don't want to be connected to another department, please can you just - yes. The publication submissions. Well, I tried your online services, but they were woefully inadequate. My apologies. No, I don't want a direct publication. I just want someone to look at it. What do you mean, adolescent publication program? I'm twenty years - you know what? You should be fired, okay? Are you just trying to keep me from going through to submissions? If you're packed, you can say so. No, don't hang up, I'm sorry. Don't-" 

Alexander swore as she hung up, and threw the phone across the room. Lafayette quietly picked it up and put it back on the charger. 

 _He is amazing, and I don't deserve him,_ Alexander thought as he jammed the other bud into his ear - some terrible rock music. It reminded him of how stupid people were and how badly the world needed fixing, which prompted him to write faster. 

_They need this essay. They don't realize it, but they do._

"I just want to change one person," he said out loud, unplugging one earbud. "One person who will think differently." 

Lafayette sat down behind him and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. "You already have." He gently pushed up Alexander's left sleeve and pointed to the quill pen. "And soon, you'll have changed two." 

_Two people. Two soulmates._

Lafayette let go of him. Alexander fixed his earbuds and wrote. 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it was so short and not very good. We're nearly to John. We're so close. Hopefully then this will get better.


	6. For an Instant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Alexander walks to his last class, his eyes lock with a student standing nearby for a split second. It's only a brief glance, but he can't seem to get it out of his head. 
> 
> Also, the Washington Post has no idea what they missed out on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to My_dearest_comma_Laurens who not only has a really cute username, but also recognized that the last chapter title was from Les Miserables, an AWESOME musical. So thanks, friend! She's been really nice! 
> 
> Anyway, *some* people are eager to see John (you know who you are :D) so yeah, I guess I have to get him in here earlier than I'd intended. Please enjoy and please review?
> 
> By the way, my Mock Trial camp has started, and so I'm back into full homeschooler swing. That means less time to write Trio fanfic. But I will MAKE time, because I'm having fun writing this, and I want all my fellow Trio shippers to be happy. Seriously, how do I have almost 60 kudos? What in the world is happening? Also, Sherlock has started and I still haven't recovered, so my mind is in even worse state than usual and I'm not fully functioning. My apologies that this chapter and all others are not the absolute greatest. I'm working on it. 
> 
> Additionally, at this point, whenever Alexander and Laf are talking or texting with each other, assume it's in French. I don't know French. Google Translate doesn't seem to, either.

Alexander was walking to his last class of the day when his phone buzzed with a text from Lafayette. 

G.L.: Where r u?

A.H.: Heading to last class. U?

G.L.: Just got home. Letter here for you.

A.H.: Who from?

G.L.: Washington Post? 

Alexander smiled a little.

A.H.: Great. Hope it's not reject.

G.L.: Nooooo. Can I open it?

A.H.: Go ahead, thx for letting me know. Gtg or I'll be late. 

G.L.: K. Love you. 

A.H.: You too, see you soon. 

Alexander allowed himself some excitement. He'd had no success with email or phone submissions to major magazines, so he'd started sending in unsolicited material through the mail. That had been a month ago. Until now, no one had replied, and while this was probably a rejection, at least they might give some feedback. His essay had over fifty pages at this point. Maybe he was going a little crazy. 

He switched off the phone and slipped it into his pocket. As he looked up to turn his eyes back towards his class building, they fell upon another student, coming out of the door to the building. Evidently, he had just looked up as well. 

Their eyes locked. 

Alexander's breath caught for a second as the green-eyed gaze pierced his from a few hundred feet away. He barely noticed anything around him, or indeed about the man looking at him - just the green eyes staring into his soul. The other student looked back at him, and then kept walking. Alexander took a step forward, unsure whether to run forwards, but he had already been lost in the crowd of students going to class. Reluctantly, Alexander joined the throng and continued to his building, though he kept glancing around trying to find the person with those eyes. 

_What was that?_

Staring at those eyes had been almost like... 

_Like the first time I met Lafayette. Was that guy, was he ...my other soulmate?_

He shook his head. There was no way to prove that. After all, it had only been a glance, and it had only lasted an instant - but if somehow, that man was his other soulmate, that meant he was  _here_ , on this campus, so close by that they'd have to meet again some day. And if he wasn't, well, then Alexander was no worse off than he had been a minute ago.

With thoughts spinning through his head, Alexander hiked up his backpack and went into the building. 

 

When he walked into the apartment, Lafayette was lying on the couch with his eyes closed and a piece of paper in his hand. Several more were scattered around him and on the floor. Alexander set down his bag. 

"Um, Lafayette?" He took a step towards his soulmate. "Are you asleep?" 

Lafayette opened his eyes and held up the piece of paper in his hand. "I am so sorry, Alexander." 

Alexander sat down on the armrest and took it. 

"Dear Mr. Hamilton, 

Thank you for the opportunity to read your essay. Unfortunately, it is not what we are looking for at the moment. While your ideas are good and backed by many solid points, we notice that your style is highly argumentative, and could therefore be offensive to some readers. We strive to take an accurate but mild position when covering distressing issues - especially ones that are highly political. Please keep up your work, and thank you again for your submission.

Sincerely,"

And it was followed by the name of whoever it was that had reviewed his essay. 

"Well, that's what I expected," said Alexander indifferently. He folded up the paper, then heard Lafayette sigh. He turned to look at him. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry, Alexander, you really wanted that... it's so sad. They can't see how good you are."

"Hey, it's okay. I'm really not that upset." His eyes fell on the papers scattered across the floor and couch, and he picked one up. It was a letter to the Washington Post, written in hesitant English - an appeal for the essay to be reconsidered. He glanced around and confirmed that all the other pages were of the same nature. 

Alexander laughed, and Lafayette looked at him. "Oh, Laf..." He shook his head. "You're the sweetest thing. You really are." 

"I just think it's sad that they turned you down, when you worked so hard." 

"Writing a letter asking them to publish my essay wouldn't change anything, Laf." 

"I know, but I wanted to try." He gestured to all the papers. "I'm writing a lot of copies. To send all of them - so they have to publish your essay." 

Alexander smiled and squeezed his hand. "Don't. It's really okay. But thank you." 

Lafayette nodded, and his face relaxed. Alexander got up and went to go get some coffee. Alright, so one more rejection. One more newspaper to cross off his list. Which meant he needed to write more, which meant coffee. Always coffee. 

"You know, Eliza told me you probably wouldn't be upset," Lafayette called after him. 

Alexander stopped in his tracks and turned around. "You were talking to Eliza? How?"

Lafayette nodded and held up a phone - Alexander's phone. "I hacked your phone and found her contact information." 

"Wait, what?" 

"Yeah. She's nice!" 

"Wait, are you reading my messages with -"

"You talk about me a lot." Lafayette's eyebrows raised. "A  _lot._ Don't you think she'd get bored of hearing you talk about how great I am?"

"Give me that," said Alexander, snatching the phone away. He scrolled up to make sure Lafayette hadn't written anything, then sent:

A.H.: Sorry. I didn't know he'd been contacting you. 

A few seconds later, she sent a reply. 

E.S.: Oh, it's completely fine! He's so sweet and he's fun to talk to. 

G.L.: Thank you eliza. 

Alexander whipped his head around to look at his soulmate, who now had his own phone out. "How did you get into this conversation?"

"Eliza added me." 

Alexander rolled his eyes. "Laf..."

E.L.: Hi, Lafayette! You're welcome! By the way, what does the G. stand for?

G.L.: Gilbert. Marie-Joseph Paul Yves -

"Do you really need to tell her all that?" Alexander asked. 

\- G.L.: Roch Gilbert du Motier de La Fayette. Or just Lafayette 4 short. 

E.S.: Nice.

"Laf, where am I supposed to -"

"Hmm?" Lafayette looked up from his phone. 

"Where am I supposed to go when I want to have a private text conversation, if you've just added yourself?" 

"I didn't add myself. Eliza added me. I asked her to." 

"Yeah, okay, but -"

"Why, is there something you're keeping a secret from me?" 

"No, but -"

"Do you say bad things about me?"

"NO, but -."

"Well, then there is nothing that I can't read," said Lafayette happily, and with that he flopped back onto the couch and continued texting Eliza. Alexander sighed, sent a quick goodbye to his girlfriend, and went to go get coffee and work on his essay. 

He sat down in his study and began to work, but as he did so, the moment from earlier flashed across his head. The green eyes locking onto his. The face disappearing before he could register it. Alexander pondered for a moment, then switched over to Google and typed "green eyes" in the search bar. He pressed the return key, and clicked on images. About 54 million results came up, and he scrolled through them, looking for any that resembled the eyes that had captivated his entire existence for a split second. As he looked, it was obvious that most of the images were of girls with far too much photoshop - and some of them seemed to be wearing contacts. All of the eyes were _too_ green, the color of emerald or money. Something made him feel like the eyes he'd seen were tinted blue... He scrolled back up and typed in "sea green." Nothing came up that matched. 

 _You're trying to find someone, and you have nothing to go on but their eyes and the fact that they're male,_ Alexander scolded himself.  _And for all you know, it might have been a girl in masculine clothing._ That was the only other thing he'd noticed as the figure disappeared into the crowd, and it didn't prove very much. Alexander closed Google and let the few images he had of that person flash across his mind, running his fingers over the quill pen as he did so.

_Who are you? Where are you..._

_...and are you my other soulmate?_


	7. The Quill and the Diamond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While pondering his essay, Alexander accidentally saves someone's life and stumbles across a man with freckles, green eyes, and two soulmarks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reason why this chapter took so long is because I had started it and got really far and then the draft wasn't saved. :( Even though I clicked on "preview", so it should have saved. I'm super sorry y'all. 
> 
> HOW IN THE WORLD DO I HAVE 72 KUDOS? 500+ VIEWS? Are you all out of your minds? I have no idea what's happening, but I am SO grateful to everyone. My friends ThatOneOtaku and LeEggoDemogorgon have been really encouraging to me - they're like my Laf and John respectively, so thanks a lot you guys! *hugs* And thanks of course to EVERYONE who reads this fic and supports me through Kudos and bookmarks and comments and all the wonderful stuff you do. I know I'm not great at writing or updating but you're all supportive. Hamilton has the nicest fanbase of any I've ever been in. Regardless of what we ship and what we like to write about we all just get along and it's soooo nice and refreshing. *group fandom hug* *grabs Lin* *hugs Lin too* 
> 
> Now onward because we ALL like Laurens a lot.

It turned out that the  _Washington Post_ wasn't the only paper that found Alexander's essay to be unsatisfactory. Over the course of the next few weeks, with Lafayette's assistance, he submitted to no less than twenty major newspapers and magazines - the  _Chicago Tribune,_ _The Wall Street Journal,_ the  _New York Post,_ _USA Today,_ _Times_  magazine, and several other papers - some obscure journals, some online sites, some publishers in France (at his soulmate's insistence.) However, nothing had proved successful. At first unaffected, he was finally beginning to feel discouraged. Sometimes, no feedback would be given on the essay, which was one of the most disappointing things about being turned down. He'd worked hard on the changes that some publishers had given him, and was actually taking a break from continuing the essay, for the sole purpose of making edits. Apparently, they were ineffective. The essay remained unpublished. 

While Alexander wrote, the world around him changed little by little under Lafayette's hand. For one thing, Alexander now had to write at the table or on the couch, as his study had been converted back to a bedroom for his newly acquired roommate. For another, he no longer had to scroll through endless Google results in search of the next place to submit - now, a list was given to him every morning, always compiled the night before by Lafayette, who was proving himself increasingly resourceful. He would do the research, type it up, and have it ready by breakfast. 

That was another change - Alexander was now required to sit down and eat breakfast every morning, rather than grabbing something and maybe eating it on the way to his first class. Lafayette was stubborn as well as resourceful, and usually got what he wanted. This was possibly because Alexander found it hard to deny him anything, even a few minutes of time that he could have spent writing or studying or walking out the door. He was also on a new sleep schedule. Lafayette found out about the all-night study sessions and demanded that from now on, Alexander would get a minimum of six hours of sleep. At first he'd wanted him to get eight, but relented after Alexander protested that if they ever wanted to see this essay done, he would need to have time to work on it. 

Currently, it was around 3:30 in the afternoon. Alexander was on his way home from the last class of the day. Homework was at a lull, so he'd have plenty of time to work on the essay once he got back. 

Alexander ducked his head against the chilly wind that blew through the street. The leaves on the trees had mostly fallen, and sat in little piles around the bare trees in the sidewalk. Soon the world would be covered in winter's chill, the leaves would be swept away, and they'd live for a while in monotone, with little color. Still, since meeting his soulmate, the world for Alexander seemed lighter, more vibrant, more vivid and beautiful than it had ever been - though it was still the same world, the same life, as before. He closed his eyes and inhaled the crisp autumn air, and then opened them and continued on his way.

He stopped at the edge of a crosswalk and pushed the button. As he waited, he noticed another person enter the crosswalk and start across the road. Confused, Alexander looked up to see if the light had changed, but it still read "Don't Walk". He whipped his gaze back towards the young man in the crosswalk, who stared at the ground and shuffled along, not noticing that he was the only one in the crosswalk - 

**_\- not noticing the car speeding towards him -_ **

"WATCH OUT!" Alexander shouted. He dashed forward, reached out, and grabbed the man by his sleeve. Alexander pulled, and stumbled back, dragging the other with him. They fell onto the sidewalk, and Alexander dropped to his knees to absorb the impact. For a moment he sat there, breathing heavily, and then slowly got up to his feet.

"Are you okay?" he asked, dusting himself off. That had been close, that had been so close. His knees felt scraped, but otherwise, he was probably fine. 

The young man sat panting on the ground for a moment, then said, "yeah, I'm fine." He looked up. "Thank you."

And Alexander stopped moving. 

He had the same eyes - the same green eyes, which up close, were tinted blue like Alexander had suspected. They were framed by freckles, which were sprinkled across his whole face, over Puerto-Rican tanned skin. He also had long, dark hair gathered into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. And he, too, seemed frozen.

For a moment they stared at each other, then Alexander extended a hand to help him up. His left hand. The young man stared at it for a moment, then took it and let Alexander pull him to his feet. Somehow, Alexander didn't need to see the quill on the other man's wrist to know. Somehow, he could already tell.

"It's you?" the man whispered. Alexander nodded and shook his hand. 

"Alexander Hamilton," he said. 

His soulmate stared at their hands, at their wrists, and then grinned. "John Laurens," he replied.

And Alexander smiled.

 

Lafayette jumped up and grabbed Alexander by the arms as soon as he came into the apartment. They both started talking at once. 

"I have something to tell you," said Lafayette excitedly, practically jumping up and down. 

"So do I -"

"I found -" 

"I met him -" 

"He has it, he has the diamond -" 

"He has the quill -" 

"And his other mark matches yours-" 

Lafayette stopped talking, and Alexander did the same. "You've met John Laurens?" Lafayette asked. 

Alexander nodded. "Wait, you have too?" 

Lafayette nodded as well. "After class, my phone was dead. I stopped a senior and asked if I could borrow his, and when he handed it to me..." He beamed, then cocked his head to the side. "So we both happened to meet him on the same day. Is that destiny or something?" 

Alexander arched an eyebrow. "If you don't believe in destiny at this point, I'm giving up on you." He smiled back. 

John Laurens had been going the same way as him, so they'd walked together for a while, and Alexander had listened to his soulmate talk - as when meeting Lafayette, he'd barely been able to think of anything to say. John was the son of a wealthy politician who would soon be running for Congress - also the bane of that wealthy politician's career, for which reason John was currently living in a frat with ten people who hated him and working fifty hours a week to avoid being around them. He wanted to be an artist, but with no connections and no means by which to pay his way, he'd had to start picking up jobs at convenience stores and cafes -

"Anywhere I can," John had said as they walked. He shrugged. "And normally I would never tell anyone all this, but you're not just anyone, I guess." He shook his head. "I dunno. I'm bad at this stuff." 

"It's okay," Alexander had laughed. He liked the way John talked and the way he made jokes, even when his life was obviously less than ideal. "You can come to my place today, instead, if you want." 

"Nah. I've got work. But thanks." He'd looked over at Alexander and smiled. "You have nice eyes, by the way." 

Alexander had felt his face go red, and John had thrown back his head and laughed. "You kind of remind me of a guy I met earlier," John had said, and smiled. Now Alexander knew that he was talking about Lafayette. 

"He's great, isn't he?" Alexander asked, and Lafayette nodded. 

"He's amazing. And hey, you know what?" 

"What?" Alexander asked. 

"Everything works out." He grabbed both of Alexander's hands and spun around him eagerly. "There's three of us! I'm not going to have to share you with some cute American girl who will just show up, because John will be friends with both of us, and we can all live together! And he can help with your essay and it will be..." He sighed and let go of Alexander's hands. "It will be... better than anything I deserve." He smiled suddenly and seized Alexander by the hands again. "I only talked for him for a few minutes, but I think I can already tell that we're all going to get along. And we'll be happy, right?" 

Alexander nodded and squeezed the younger boy's hands. "Right." 

"And I'll love you and you'll love me and you'll also love John, and I guess Eliza can come hang out too and John can help me make sure you get enough sleep and - hey, we need to ask him to move in with us! We need to figure out where he's going to sleep! And we need to work on your essay..." He spun around and pulled Alexander further into the apartment. "Come on, come on!" 

Alexander let his soulmate drag him away from the door. 

_So. Lafayette and John Laurens._

The shield and the quill pen.

The two people that he had been created for. 

 

Somehow, Alexander felt complete. 

 

 


	8. Memories and Torments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander remembers the early struggles of having two soulmarks. John wrestles with his circumstances and draws. Lafayette comforts one of them and waits to meet the other again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Or, Kawaii Hobbit can't think of anything for the chapter so she gives you angst. Merry Christmas.

~Nine Years Earlier~

The boy grabbed Alexander by his sleeves and slammed him up against the lockers. All the books fell out of Alexander's arms and onto his foot, and when he cried out, the other boys just laughed. 

"So, we all want to know if it's true," one of them said. 

"I don't know what you're talking about." 

"Oh, come on, yes you do." He kicked Alexander in the shins, and Alexander dropped to his knees. "Chris says he saw them." 

"Saw what?" Alexander asked weakly and evasively, trying to get them to leave him alone. "I don't know what you mean..."

The boy kicked away the books as Alexander reached for them. "Your wrists, stupid. He saw both of your wrists while you were writing, and he says you have two marks." One of his friends grabbed Alexander's arm as he tried to crawl away and yanked it back. Alexander yelped in pain, but the boy ignored him and pushed back his sleeve. 

"Quill pen," he said. He grabbed Alexander's other wrist and checked there. "Shield. Yeah, he has two." 

They all started laughing, and Alexander gathered up the books quietly. 

"You know, my dad's a scientist," said the first boy, putting his foot on top of one of the books. "He told me that having two soulmarks is a weird genetic mutation. It's not supposed to happen. It means that there's something wrong with your DNA." 

"That doesn't even make sense," Alexander mumbled. "Your soul and your DNA have nothing to do with each other -"

"Are you calling my dad a liar?" asked the boy sharply. He picked up the book and shoved it at Alexander, hitting him in the ribs with it. Alexander gasped as the wind was knocked out of him, and the others all started laughing again. Their leader turned around. "Can you believe this guy?" he snickered. "What a loser."

Alexander tackled him. 

The other boys started shouting as Alexander fought back. He was smaller than the other boy, but he was stronger and fueled by adrenaline and fury. Blinded by anger, he didn't even notice that the rest of the group had disappeared, and didn't become aware of this fact until they returned with a teacher. 

"ALEXANDER HAMILTON!" She screamed. He froze, and she pulled him off the other boy. "What is the meaning of this?" 

"I just wanted to see his soulmarks, Ma'am," the other boy said, pulling himself up and whimpering. "He got mad and hit me."

"That's a lie!" Alexander struggled to turn around and look at her, as she had him pinned by his wrists. "He kicked me, and he called me a loser!" 

"Alexander, this is your third fight this month," she said sternly. "Chris has never had a record of fighting before. In this case, his word is of greater value to me than yours." 

"But -" 

"Hush," she said, steering him away. "You're going to the principal's office. I wouldn't be surprised if you got suspended. The rest of you may return to recess." 

Alexander felt his heart sink. "But I can't get suspended or I'll fall behind -"

"I think it's best if you stop talking, young man." 

Tears stinging in his eyes, Alexander let himself be led away. 

 

Alexander traced the soulmarks on his wrists and sat still for a while. It hadn't been a dream, just a memory - but so vivid. That was the problem with an amazing mind for details and a careful memory. Nothing ever left you. 

He laid back and looked over at the clock next to his bed. It was now three in the morning, which meant that per Lafayette's rules, he wouldn't be allowed to get up for another two hours. 

He stared up at the ceiling, still tracing the marks, and sighed heavily. It had been hard - so hard - for a while. Being part of a .1 percentage wasn't easy, especially in Middle School. He'd already been a loner, already been the outsider, the loser, the freak. One more thing - well, two more things, he thought, looking at his wrists - to set him apart was more than he needed. 

Alexander rolled over and pulled a pillow over his head, trying to fall back asleep. He'd been awake for almost an hour now, and couldn't help thinking that if he could only write, just a little, then maybe his mind wouldn't be so awake and he could get some sleep. The laptop was in Lafayette's room - he always confiscated it - but maybe if Lafayette was asleep, Alexander could get it and work a bit. 

He got out of bed and made his way across the dark hall. Lafayette's door was slightly ajar, and Alexander pushed on it very slowly so it wouldn't creak. He peeked into the room. His soulmate was sound asleep, and the laptop was on the bookshelf across the room from his bed. Alexander crept into the room and walked to the bookshelf, very quietly. He reached out and grabbed the laptop - 

The lights flicked on.

Alexander jumped and turned to see Lafayette sitting up, one hand on the lamp next to his bed. He smiled. "Caught you." 

"Laf." Alexander gulped. "Um, I couldn't sleep, so I thought I would work on -"

"No." 

"Please?" 

"Nope." 

Alexander sighed. "Come on..." 

Lafayette smirked and leaned forward. "Why were you awake in the first place?" 

"I just woke up for a second, and then I started thinking." 

"About?" 

He shrugged. "Stuff." 

Lafayette studied his face, then asked quietly, "Not good stuff?" 

"If you want to call it that," Alexander replied, thinking of the memories, the beatings from the other boys, the laughs that had tortured him for three years. 

His soulmate was silent for a moment, then said, "Okay, you can work on your essay. But it has to be in here. I told you the laptop doesn't leave my room until six A.M., and I can't let you break that rule." 

Alexander rolled his eyes, but he took the laptop down from the shelf and pulled a chair alongside the bed. "What are you, my mom?" 

"Your soulmate." 

"I know. I'm teasing you." 

"I know. It's cute." Lafayette flicked the light off and curled up under his blanket. "Unlike you, I'm going to actually get some sleep tonight, so don't you dare be too loud." 

Alexander nodded, opening the laptop. "Okay. Good night." 

"Night."

Alexander opened the essay and got back to work, picking up where he'd left off the day before. The sky outside remained dark, and the world was still, broken only by the sound of the laptop keys and Lafayette's peaceful breathing as he fell back asleep. Alexander glanced over at him and smiled. Everything felt calm, relaxed, as if there was no pain or fear outside of this room where his words took shape and his soulmate slept... as if, outside of this one room, there was nothing but a waiting audience and a boy with sea-green eyes. 

 

John pulled open the door to his fraternity and sighed. He wasn't tired, even though it was four in the morning and he'd just finished the night shift in the hotel lobby where he worked. As he'd pulled into the driveway, though, he'd seen that all the lights were still on, which meant that the other members of the fraternity were probably still awake... and, more likely than not, highly drunk. Sure enough, when he stepped into the hallway, he was immediately greeted with hollers from one of the other students. 

"Laureeeeens," he said, throwing a beer bottle. John ducked and started up the stairs. "Laureeeens. Can I borrow a twenty, pleeease..." There was a thud behind as the man fell. John continued up the stairs, ducking to avoid another bottle. 

Upstairs, another member was asleep in front of John's bedroom door, clutching a half-empty bottle. John took the bottle, dropped it out the window and into the recycling bin he'd placed below, and then kicked the man out of the way. He stirred and opened his eyes. 

"Raise a glassh thoo," he slurred, holding up an empty fist, before passing out again. 

"Yeah, whatever." John went into his room, flicked the light on, closed the door, and locked it behind him. 

He sat down on the edge of his bed and sighed a little. His room was small - so small that he had to store his clothes under the bed in a rubbermaid container. His backpack for school was down there too, and everything that was actually important to him he stored on a shelf above his bed. 

John had spent the night shift doing homework at the lobby desk, interrupted occasionally by some teenage girls who were pulling an all-nighter and required coffee - for some reason they kept flirting with him and calling him Martin, not bothering to ask his real name - and now, still wide awake, he decided to finally do what he'd been wanting to do since that afternoon. 

He stood up on his bed and took down a spiral bound drawing pad and a charcoal pencil. Grasping these, he sat down on the edge of the bed, flipped the book open, and began to sketch his soulmates from memory.

He drew Lafayette first - actually there was a picture of him saved on John's phone, but he always preferred to draw from memory. His pencil moved almost of it's own will as his mind connected with his soul and his heart - and his hands - to make the person with the other diamond mark appear on the sheet of paper before him. When he had finished, he barely studied the drawing before jumping right into the next. 

The drawing of Alexander. 

He didn't even turn the page - he just let his mind take over and pour out the image that had been imprinted on it since that afternoon, since that minute when Alexander had saved his life, changed his life, and brought light into it.

_Alexander..._

John stopped suddenly, and lifted the charcoal pencil. Confused, he studied the picture across his lap. 

He had drawn his soulmates. But he had drawn them holding hands. 

 


	9. The Trio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John discovers, among other things, that his soulmates are soulmates, that one of them is a writer and one of them is a cinnamon roll, that both of them are adorable, that the writer requires constant coffee, that the cinnamon roll is always happy to oblige, and that at some point in his life he had to live without them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, if there are any ideas you have or any criticism, please let me know! Point out my mistakes/inconsistencies, give me feedback if you like. I loooove comments, so if anyone has anything to add, let me hear your words. Thanks to those of you who have been commenting! This fic is been so fun to write and it's such a blessing that while I was writing it, it hit eighty kudos. EIGHTY? HOW??!!! Thank you all so much, I'm thrilled that you like it!!! Hopefully the real trio would like it too. Anyways, I can't stress enough how grateful I am. Love you guys.

"If John doesn't know that we're also soulmates, do we tell him or do we let him figure it out?" 

Lafayette was sprawled across Alexander's bed, hanging off the side, while Alexander sat at the desk nearby writing. They'd been discussing John non-stop since they'd met him a few days ago. Alexander had texted his second soulmate no less than ten times, but so far he'd only gotten brief responses, as it seemed that the other student was almost always working and usually couldn't talk. The few times they were able to text, though, had shown Alexander snapshots of who his soulmate was.

John Laurens was kind. He spoke of everyone in the exact same way, thought of everyone as equal, even the people he didn't like. He was funny, made the most out of a frustrating life. He had an open heart, and accepted Alexander into it instantly. 

Alexander closed his eyes for a moment and smiled, then opened them and glanced back at his laptop screen. "We don't even know when we're going to see him again," he said, answering Lafayette's question. "I'm not sure we should make plans for how to break the news to him." 

"Well, why don't you text him and tell him he can come over?" suggested Lafayette, rolling over and folding his hands under his chin. "Then he'll see me here and he'll be completely surprised."

Alexander cocked an eyebrow, still not looking up from the laptop screen. "That might be a little too surprising." 

Lafayette leaned over to look at the screen. "Did you hear back about the essay? What did they say?" 

"They said no." 

His soulmate frowned and put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Alexander. I love it, even if they don't." 

"You're great, Laf."

"I know." He rolled over onto his back again. "So. John." 

"Yes."

"Tell him he has to come here."

"Don't you mean ask him?" 

"No, tell him. You're very convincing when you want to be."

"Except when it comes to this essay," Alexander muttered. Lafayette squeezed his shoulder again. 

"That's not about you. It's about them being totally blind."

"Twenty publications have turned me down, Laf," said Alexander. "This might not work." 

"It's not about how many turn you down," Lafayette said firmly, and Alexander looked up at him. "It's about the one who says yes. And someday, there will be someone."

Alexander smiled. "Yeah, you're right." He reached over and rested his hand on his soulmate's face. "You're always right," he said. 

Lafayette nodded. "I know." He reached over and swiped the laptop's trackpad over to messages. "Now text John."

Alexander clicked open messages and went to text John. Lafayette got off the bed and came around behind Alexander's chair to watch, resting his chin on the top of Alexander's head.

A.H.: You there?

They both watched for a moment, then a reply appeared.

J.L.: Yeah, what's up?

A.H.: Not much. You doing anything right now?

J.L.: Have work at five. Till then, no.

A.H.: You want to come over?

J.L.: Sure! :D

A.H.: Great bc there's someone I want you to meet.

J.L.: Awesome. What's your address?

Alexander gave it to him, then typed as an after thought, 

A.H.: See you soon. Love you.

J.L.: Awwww, you too, k bye.

A.H.: Bye.

He closed the laptop. Lafayette smiled and grabbed Alexander's hand. 

"If he's coming, we'd better clean the kitchen. This place is a mess." 

"Yeah..." Alexander said, "that's probably my fault..."

"Probably. But that's okay, because you're a writer and so you need coffee. Clean it, and I won't hold a grudge." 

 

Apparently John had a car, and apparently it was a really nice car. 

Alexander watched from the window, confused, as the shiny blue Beamer pulled against the sidewalk outside of the apartment.  _Were we expecting someone rich?_ he thought. A person got out of the car, unmistakably John. Alexander shrugged off his confusion and retreated back into the apartment, where Lafayette was practically bouncing up and down. 

"Is he here?" he asked.

"Looks like it." 

They both jumped up and turned as they heard a knock on the door. Alexander glanced back over at his soulmate, who smiled, and then turning back around, went to the door. 

John was standing leaning against the doorway, looking away. When the door opened, he turned around and smiled. Alexander smiled sheepishly, suddenly wondering if maybe he didn't clean up well enough, if John were crazy rich and wasn't telling him, if his soulmate was overtired, because under his sea green eyes there were dark circles, and the hair that had escaped from the ponytail was a mess. 

"Hey," said John. 

"Hey," said Alexander. 

John cocked an eyebrow. "So there's someone you want me to meet here? Where's their car?" 

"Doesn't have one." Alexander stepped into the apartment and held the door open. John smiled and followed him in. 

Lafayette was nowhere in sight. 

Alexander frowned as John looked around, examining the apartment.  _Where did he go?_

Suddenly John yelped, and Alexander whipped his head around to see Lafayette had tackle-hugged their soulmate. John tried to keep his balance, failed, and fell back against the wall. 

"You're here!" said Lafayette eagerly, squeezing him. 

"Wha-what?" John stammered. " _Lafayette?_ "

"Yes! I am, how you say... I am living here?" 

John stammered something inaudible. Alexander sighed. "Um, Laf," he said in French. "You're still on the floor..."

"Oh right!" Lafayette jumped back and helped John to his feet. " _Je suis desole_. You're not hurt?"

"No. But..." John looked from Lafayette over to Alexander, back and forth between them a few times. "Wait a second, you wanted me to meet him -"

"Yes."

He pointed back and forth, wide-eyed and confused. "But you know him, and you both met me, so..." He trailed off. "Am I missing something here?" 

Lafayette laughed and grabbed Alexander's right hand in his left, then held both of them out so John could see the shields. "Yeah. Look."

For a moment, John was silent, and then he slowly reached out and traced the shield on Alexander's wrist. "You both have two marks? My soulmates are soulmates?" he asked, looking between them.

Alexander nodded. 

"So that means..." For a strange instant, it looked as though John might cry, though his face was split by a broad smile. "You...You two already know each other, and now I know you..." He coughed. "I'm so bad at this," he muttered, and Alexander and Lafayette both stepped forward and hugged him. 

"So it's the three of us?" John finished softly, standing with his arms around them. 

"The three of us," Alexander confirmed. 

" _P_ _our toujours et toujours,_ " Lafayette added, embracing both of them tightly. " _Je vous aime tous les deux."_

There was a moment of comfortable silence. Then -

"I don't know what that means," John admitted. 

"Well, you'll learn to," replied Alexander. "We have our whole lives, after all." And he closed his eyes and said no more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My french is sourced outside of Google Translate by French speakers, so if there are still any errors - I'm so sorry!
> 
> Je suis désolé: I'm sorry.  
> Pour toujours et toujours: Forever and for always.  
> Je vous aime tous les deux: I love you both.
> 
> I'll probably use these phrases again at some point. ;)


	10. Free Scones and Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lafayette invites Eliza over without consulting Alexander or John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S ALEXANDER HAMILTON'S BIRTHDAY, YO!!!
> 
> *goes to Lin's twitter*  
> *sees cute message to Alexander*  
> *sees video of Daveed Diggs singing the Rubber Duckie Song*  
> *blank stare*  
> *runs away screaming part from excitement and part from confusion*
> 
> So ANYway... 
> 
> I think there was a mistake in my French and the "vous" should have been "tu", but I'm worried I might mess up the grammar if I change it, so it stays... so sorry!

John didn't open his eyes as soon as he woke up. Instead, he kept them closed while his brain slowly followed his body into consciousness and tried to figure out where he was. He was facing the opposite way then he usually did while sleeping... slowly, he remembered that he wasn't in his fraternity. He'd spent the night in his soulmates' apartment, on the couch, which meant that he should probably get up or he might become an inconvenience...

He opened his eyes, only to see huge brown ones staring down at him. 

John yelped and fell off the couch, and Lafayette burst out laughing. " _Bonjour_!" He helped John up. " _Eh bien_ , you can really sleep. It is eight in the morning!"

"Really?" John mumbled, looking towards the kitchen for a clock. "How is that possible?" 

"You're always up before?"

"I'm always up at six." 

"Hmm." Lafayette gathered up the blankets off the couch and carried them over to the closet; John followed. "Alexander is asleep, too. He is usually up before as well. I have... how you say, I have... maked a rule?" 

"Made a rule."

" _Merci, mon cher. Oui,_ I made a rule. He has to get six hours of sleep, and he is right now at -" Lafayette glanced at his watch - "Nine hours of sleep. I went in his room to see if he has died, but he's alive, just very asleep. So I came out here to wait for you to wake up." He shrugged as he placed the blankets on a shelf in the closet. "He was awake early yesterday, maybe that is why? He is writing an essay."

"Yeah? About what?"

"Everything that is bad. Because of the government, you see? He is teaching people how they have been tricked." Lafayette closed the door to the closet and looked over at John. "Alexander is very wonderful. You'll like him a lot." Suddenly his face became concerned, and he dashed over to the kitchen. John chased after him.

"What's wrong?"

"I forgot to turn coffee on," muttered the freshman, digging through the drawers for a pack of coffee grounds. "Alexander is like a teenage girl when it comes to coffee, and if he does not have any, he cannot write."

"Hmm." John leaned against the counter and watched him work. "So you do everything around here, and he writes?"

" _Non,_ it is not like that. I asked him to write this essay, you see, and I like to make coffee. I also cook sometimes. But he helps out too." Lafayette smiled and turned to look at John. He grabbed him by the shoulders suddenly. "John, we've decided you have to come and live with us. Alexander is so happy when he talks of you. And so am I, you know." 

John shrugged. "Eh, I dunno. I make trouble everywhere I go. You don't want me here, trust me."

Lafayette's eyes widened. "Oh,  _non!_ We do, we really do. I know this is a small apartment, but I can sleep in Alexander's room and you can have my room." He frowned. "Though that room is too small to fit two beds... well, we can always move somewhere else,  _oui_? We can figure something out. Please say you'll come, though? Alexander's smart. He'll have an idea." 

John smiled fondly. "Okay." He squeezed Lafayette's shoulder. "You know something? You're the sweetest person I've ever met."

"Thank you." Lafayette beamed and then leaned forward and grabbed John in a hug. "Now,  _serre moi."_

"Huh?"

Lafayette giggled. John shrugged and hugged him back.  _Looks like I have a lot to learn._

After a second or two Lafayette pulled back and turned towards the hall. "Is he still asleep?  _ALEXANDER!"_ He shouted.  _"Lève-toi,_ _allez!"_

Alexander shouted something back, also in French. Lafayette rolled his eyes and started pushing buttons to turn off the coffee machine. "Would you like some of this? I think that it's terrible, but you can have a mug if you want."

"Sure," said John. "Thank you."

Just then, Alexander walked into the kitchen, laptop in hand, hair in a tangle around his shoulders. Lafayette ran over and grabbed the laptop out of his hands.

"Where were you?" he asked in French.

"Writing," Alexander replied, also in French. "Do you want me to get this done or not?"

"First of all, you're not supposed to be on that in your room, and secondly, what were you  _thinking_? We have company today, you know."

"Yeah, but it's not even seven. I didn't think he'd be up."

"It's eight fifteen."

Alexander's eyes widened. "Really? I started working on the essay at six thirty, how can it already be past eight?"

"Well, it is, but if you apologize to him, I don't think he'll be upset. He's great like that." Lafayette pushed a mug into Alexander's hand. "Here, have coffee." 

"Thanks."

John watched in confusion, not understanding a word they said. 

Alexander turned to him after a moment and smiled, suddenly sheepish. "Hey, sorry about that," he said, in English. "I hope I don't seem rude."

"It's fine," said John. "I only just woke up, anyway."

"When I said company, I wasn't just talking about John," Lafayette interrupted in French. 

"What do you mean?" 

He held up his phone. "Eliza's coming. In..." He glanced up. "About half an hour."

"You invited her today?!" Alexander exclaimed in English. 

"What's going on?" John asked, looking from one to the other. 

Lafayette turned to address him. "Eliza is Alexander's girlfriend, and she is wanting to meet you. I have asked her to come over!" 

John turned bright pink. "Um, I'm kind of a mess," he said, examining his rumpled clothes - he hadn't been planning to stay overnight, and had therefore slept in his t-shirt and jeans. 

"That's okay! She is nice. I've actually never met her in person either, so I am making a first impression, too."

"Laf, you shouldn't have just asked her over without consulting me first," said Alexander sternly. Lafayette ducked his head. 

"But I really wanted to see her..." 

Alexander swiped for the phone, which Lafayette held over his head. 

"She's bringing breakfast," he protested. 

Alexander stopped. "She is?"

Lafayette nodded vigorously. " _Oui,_ she told me she would bring scones." 

"In that case..." Alexander turned to look at John. "I can totally cancel if you want." 

"It's cool," John said quickly, still eager to please. "If you don't mind me still being here. I can get home if you think that would be better." 

"No!" said Alexander

"Staaaay." Lafayette held out a mug of coffee. "Look, if you stay you get free scones and coffee. And if you're worried about your clothes, you can borrow something from Alexander."

John smiled. "Okay." He glanced at Alexander over the top of the mug and raised an eyebrow. "But I think anything of his would be too small for me."

Lafayette collapsed laughing, and Alexander rolled his eyes. 

 

Eliza arrived exactly on time. She was dressed in a black tunic with a blue infinity-scarf and skinny jeans, and she was carrying a striped tote bag. For a moment she stood in the doorway to kick off her shoes, then stepped into the apartment and looked around.

"Anyone home?" she called. Lafayette appeared from the kitchen with Alexander and John in tow. 

"Eliza!" he exclaimed, and gave her a hug. She set down her bag to hug him back, and accepted a kiss on each cheek. "It's so nice to finally see you!"

"You too!" She held him by his shoulders and looked him up and down. "My gosh, you are tall."

"Six one."

"Stop." 

Lafayette laughed. "It's true!" 

"That's crazy." Eliza laughed too and looked over his shoulder. "Hi, Alexander." 

"Hey." He also hugged her, for a little longer than Lafayette had. John stood quietly behind them, not sure what to say or do. Eliza noticed him and, pulling away from Alexander, went over to him and held out a hand. 

"You must be John Laurens?" she said. Relieved, he shook. 

"Yeah," he said. "And you're Eliza?"

"Eliza Schuyler, yes. Nice to meet you! Alexander and Lafayette have told me all about you." She smiled and let go of his hand. "You're pretty tall too... compared to Alexander." She looked over at her boyfriend. "So now you have two people to reach the high shelves for you. How does it feel?" 

"Like I have two personal skyscrapers following me around."

"Excuse me, who follows who around?" Lafayette tossed his head in a display of false haughtiness, then dropped the facade and turned to Eliza. "Did you bring scones? Please say you did. I'm starving."

"Yes, I did. Here." She reached into her bag and pulled out a pyrex container. "Blueberry. That okay?" 

"Yessss!" Lafayette practically bounced to the kitchen, and Alexander followed. Eliza was left alone with John for a moment, and she turned to look at him. 

"So, have you officially moved in?"

John shrugged. "I don't think so. I just slept on the couch one time." 

"I can tell." She laughed at his embarrassment and punched his arm lightly. "Come on, I'm teasing you. We're going to be friends, right?"

"Sure. Of course." John rubbed his eyes. "Sorry, I'm just -" 

"It's okay," she said gently. "I get it." She smiled. "I'm good friends with Alexander, but for your sakes I'm not sure I'm ever going to be much more than that."

"Oh, I wasn't -" John protested, flushing. 

"John, it's okay," she repeated, laughing. "What I was  _going_ to say was that I'm hoping we can  _all_ be friends. You and me, and Lafayette, and Alexander." 

John studied her bright black eyes and decided he could trust her. So far, only two people had been given that honor, and they both had marks that matched his on their wrists. 

"Anyway." She took his hand. "Want some scones?" 

"I'd love some."

"Great! Let's go." 

They followed Alexander and Lafayette to the kitchen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonjour - hello/good morning
> 
> Eh bien is well or wow. 
> 
> Merci, mon cher - thank you, my dear. 
> 
> Oui - yes
> 
> Non - no
> 
> Serre moi - hug me/hold me
> 
> Lève-toi - wake up
> 
> Allez - come on
> 
>  
> 
> Lafayette has pretty good English skills, but I did my best to give the impression that he isn't quite fluent. When he's talking to Alexander in French, his sentences are phrased very differently - for that reason.


	11. Better Than Nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After months of working on his essay with no response, Alexander gets an email that brings some hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again to all my readers/friends/everyone! .^. I have an announcement: I am taking a trip up to the ADKs with some friends over the weekend, and so another chapter of this fic will likely not arrive until Tuesday. Sorry! In the meantime, leave me lots of comments for when I get back, and I've got plenty of other Hamilton fics you could look through. (Though admittedly none of them are very good as there is no research behind, like, any of them. There are unhealthy amounts of trio fluff, though.) Anyway, I'll see you all soon. Please enjoy this chapter and remember to leave me kudos and comments if you haven't already!

Since he had work the next morning (a Monday), John didn't stay another night, though he did hang around for much longer than he seemed to have meant to, at Lafayette's insistence. Eventually he drove back to his fraternity and told them he'd see them later. After he left, Lafayette went online in search of a larger apartment that they could rent, and Alexander worked on his essay while scrolling through the news feed on his phone. The President had given a conference. Evidently it hadn't gone too well. Alexander snorted as he read the commentary from CNN.  _The whole media is messed up, this whole country is messed up..._

"Who's that?" Lafayette asked, peeking over his shoulder.

"That would be the president." 

"What's up with his hair?" 

"It's not just up," Alexander muttered. "It's left and right and back and forwards and all over the place." 

"I thought politicians had to have nice hair." 

Alexander looked up and brushed back one of his soulmate's corkscrew curls, which had come out of his ponytail. "Maybe you should go into politics, then," he suggested. Lafayette rolled his eyes and went back to apartment-hunting. Smiling, Alexander returned to the essay. 

 _When faced with any trying circumstances and a government who they cannot, and will not rally around, the people are left with few choices. They could 1., pursue their current path and not protest, not fight back, not struggle against their circumstances, and instead allow themselves to be led blindly by corrupt media, propaganda, and distractions rather than pursuing a course of action..._ Alexander frowned. That rhymed, which made it sound cheesy. He highlighted the passage and deleted it.

"Alexander, if John chips in, can we afford 9,000 a month?" 

"No." Alexander continued writing. 

 _Their second option, then, is to rise above the circumstances - to protest, to take to the streets in a display of strength, rather than of weakness, which only heightens the likeliness of exasperated subordination. Deciding upon this course of action, we should rise together in, if possible, peaceful malcontent - we should show our power, our refusal to submit to that which we deem wrong and unjust. We must raise our flags, we must display our emotions, we must gather together, take to the streets. Some may show their refusal through actions. Some, like I do, may choose to write..._ He deleted that. He didn't want to sound self-glorifying.  _Still others, those who are more public, may use their fame to -_

"What about 96,000? Per year?"

"NO!" Alexander sighed. "Laf, where do you expect us to get that kind of money? You don't have a job and I don't have a full-time job." 

"We could take out a loan."

"No way."

"I think we could pay it," said Lafayette urgently. "I have... some money saved away." 

"How much?" 

"Some." 

Alexander shrugged. "If you can find something cheaper, preferably per month, then please do so. The less we have to spend means the less I have to work on random publications, which means I can write this essay more often."

"Which means you angst about it and I make you coffee."

"Yeah."

"Cool."

 _\- to advocate for that which they believe to be good and fair. It is indeed the job of those few privileged with glory and publicity to speak their minds, to show their beliefs and fight for change with the gift they are given..._ He rubbed his eyes. He had nothing to support this argument, even if it was true.

"I found one that's 500 a month."

Alexander's head shot up, and he whipped it around. "No."

"Yes. 500. It says it's a... Studio apartment?"

Alexander sighed and sat down again. "In that case, nah."

"Why not?" 

He said nothing. Lafayette scrolled through some pictures, then said - "Hey, all the beds are in the living room."

"Because that is the bedroom." 

"But there's a couch." 

"But it's a studio, which means one main room and a kitchenette. And bathroom." 

"Oh. Do we want that?" 

"Do you?" 

Lafayette was silent as he continued to look through pictures, then said, "Where would we get dressed?"

"Exactly." Alexander kept writing. 

_It is the moral obligation of those few privileged with glory -_

"This one's only 800 a month." 

Alexander didn't even reply. 

"Oh, but there isn't a real kitchen and it's only two bedrooms, never mind..." 

"Laf, get over it," said Alexander, turning around. "You're not going to find anything. Three bedroom apartments are crazy expensive. We don't have that kind of luxury and we're all broke as heck." 

"But I really want John to come live with us."

"Yeah, me too. But unless we win the lottery or something, I think one of us is sleeping on the couch."

"Or we could share a r-"

"Out of the question." 

"I'm kidding." He sighed. "They're all too tiny to fit two beds anyway." He set down his phone. "Should I go buy a lottery ticket?"

Alexander shook his head. "No. You should just keep your money for something else." He settled back into the couch and returned to work. "There isn't a big break coming our way."

 

Lafayette walked in the door on Monday after classes and was surprised to see both Alexander and John were already there. 

"Hel...lo?" he said, confused. 

John had said he'd pick up the habit that Lafayette himself used to be in - come over after classes. But his wrapped up around the same time as Alexander's, and that wasn't for another half hour. Additionally, both of them were sitting on the couch staring at the laptop screen like it had just told them the secrets of the universe. Not that he, Lafayette, would know what those were, of course. (Alexander would say coffee. Or he would if he weren't staring at the laptop.) Lafayette hung up his coat, set down his backpack, and said "Hello?" again. 

Alexander's head snapped up, and he waved Lafayette over. "Hey. Sit down," he said. 

Lafayette frowned, not liking this greeting. If he had it his way, he'd be getting a proper hello, which really ought to be accompanied by cheek kisses (it was nice of him to exclude those in the first place, for his soulmate's sake.) _Eh bien, you're lucky I love you, Alexander._ He sat down all the same, though. 

"Okay, what's going on?" Lafayette asked, studying the scene before him. Alexander's hair was a mess, as if he'd ran the entire way back from classes and not cared to brush it since - he really needed a haircut, but then Lafayette supposed _he_  shouldn't talk about haircuts - and John looked equally disheveled. His hand had been on Alexander's shoulder the entire time since Lafayette walked through the door, and it was kind of cute. 

"This is..." Alexander laughed a little and looked Lafayette in the eyes (about time!). "Remember how I told you we weren't going to... get any large amounts of money any time soon?"

Lafayette nodded and leaned forward eagerly. "Did you win the lottery?" Wait, but he told him not to enter, the hypocrite -

"No." 

Lafayette deflated and sat back. "What a shame."

"But I did get an email." 

He leaned forward again. "But you are getting emails every day. It is, how you say, it is normal? What makes this one special?"

"It was an email from a magazine called the _Daily,_ " said John, obviously impatient of Alexander's conversation-wanderings - what would that be called? Meandering? He still had his hand on Alexander's shoulder. It was  _really really_ cute. Lafayette wondered if Alexander had even noticed that it was still there.

"The daily what?" 

"Just  _Daily._ "

"That makes no sense."

"That's what I said."

"The  _point_ is," said Alexander loudly, "this is a magazine run by a community of writers, Laf. It's got a fairly large following online. One of their editors read an article I wrote for their sister magazine last month -"

"What's a sister magazine?" 

"It's a magazine published by the same company."

"Ohhhhh." 

"They read my article and contacted me. They want to publish something of mine... they told me to send them anything I was working on." 

"He got the text at lunch," John murmured. Lafayette frowned. They went out to lunch without him? Ohhh, but he was on the other end of campus with a professor, so he couldn't have come anyway...

"Did you send them the essay?" he asked, snapping back to the actual subject. "You obviously skipped class to write them back, so please tell me you sent it."

"All the edited portions." Alexander reached over and grabbed Lafayette's hands; John's fell off his shoulder. "And..."

"They said yes?" 

"They said yes."

Lafayette screamed and grabbed Alexander in a hug, kissing his cheeks. "Yes! Yes! FINALLY!!!" He spun around, and because Alexander was short, he was whipped through the air and his feet lost contact with the ground. Oh well.

"Yo, you're suffocating me," Alexander protested, but Lafayette kept hugging him.

"I told you! I TOLD you they would publish it! I was telling you for months and you were not believing me, even though I TOLD you so!  _Je suis heureux, je me sens vivant, tu l'as fais -"_

"Hey, he's turning purple," John commented, amused, from the couch. Lafayette let go of Alexander and hugged John instead. 

"The point is," Alexander wheezed, "they want to pay me for the article." 

"Greaaaat!" Lafayette looked up at him over the top of John's head. "How much?" 

"Ten cents a word for the first 8000 words. After that, five cents a word. Not counting the advance." 

"And how many words do you have?" 

"...a lot," Alexander said. "And they want to print it over the course of a few issues." 

"So how much?"

"They're giving me an advance of five hundred dollars. After that, one thousand dollars."

Lafayette dropped John.

"Per issue," Alexander added. 

"WHAT?!"

"I know." Alexander laughed a little. "It's... crazy."

John chuckled, getting up and rubbing his head. "Ow..."

"Alexander, that's going to be several  _thousand_ dollars..." Lafayette jumped up. "We should celebrate,  _oui?_ Should I go buy alcohol?"

John and Alexander stared at him. He flushed. Riiight, the Americans had that stupid rule where you have to be twenty-one to drink, even fermented stuff which is harmless. He kept forgetting that fact. Luckily he'd always remember before actually drinking anything. Otherwise he could have gotten into trouble.

"Sorry, forgot," he said. He hugged both of them. Alexander pulled away before Lafayette could kiss his cheeks again. Silly Americans. Alexander was grinning from ear to ear, though, and he was so happy that it made up for it. 

"I... don't even know what to say right now," he muttered. 

"Well, we're both really proud of you," said John. He also was hugging Alexander. Lafayette squeezed his eyes shut and Alexander close. 

"But the essay's not done yet," Alexander said suddenly, seeming frightened. "Or what if they don't like the later portions?" 

" _Non,_ we are going to be positive today," Lafayette protested. "Positive and happy. Positively happy?  _Oui,_ because Alexander's essay is being published!!! You will be FAMOUS,  _mon cher!!!"_

"I don't want to be famous. I just want to change people." 

"Well, you can change people and be famous,  _oui?"_

And he hugged Alexander just a little tighter so he couldn't protest against that statement. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did actually go on a real estate site and look up three bedroom apartments in NYC, and there were some around the prices that Alexander and Laf looked at. I do my research, friends. ^.^ I also searched how much the average college student makes per month. $700. Poor trio. I ALSO searched the legal drinking age in France, and it is 18 - 16 for fermented drinks, like beer (though that portion was from 2009. Things may have changed.)
> 
> Lafayette's happy rambling is "I'm so happy, I feel so alive, I told you so!" I've been meaning to try his POV for a while and it was an absolute blast. Did y'all enjoy?


	12. The Moderate Papers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lafayette finds a new apartment. Alexander submits his essay. And John gets a phone call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *breezes back into Archive of Our Own* SO WHAAAT'D IIIIII MIII - *sees 102 kudos* *faints*
> 
> Good GOSH people, you are all amazing! Thank you thank you thank you! Well, the ADKs were great, Sherlock was not great and I'm disappointed, Lin is 37, and I've been writing Trio fanfic in my head for the past four days, so I guess it's time I give you some? Specially since yesterday's draft got deleted.>:-( Anyway, I can't believe I have 102 kudos and who knows how many comments (the computer counts mine too, annoyingly.) Wow. I'm blown away. (Blow us all away starts playing and we all cry.) So before I jump back into this, I just have one more question - did you miss me?

Alexander finished the first installment and sent it to the  _Daily._

One Tuesday, a check came in for five hundred dollars. Alexander went online and spent thirty of those on a email subscription to the  _Daily_. Then, on Sunday, the first installment of the essay showed up. 

It was on Page 5, the title printed in bold. The ten thousand words spilled down for pages and pages in size twelve font, complete with some stock photos that were vaguely relevant - but Alexander didn't focus on those, or even on the words that made up the essay. Instead, he just looked at the title and the name below. 

 

**THE MODERATE PAPERS**

**PART ONE**

**by Alexander Hamilton**

 

"What's a moderate?"  Lafayette asked, breaking the silence that had fallen. 

"Hmm? Oh." Alexander turned around and tore his eyes from the seventeen small letters under the title. "It's the technical term for a person who doesn't align with the liberal or the conservative platform, or someone who can see the value in both. And the flaws," he added. "Really it's just a way of being 'opinionated but politically correct', as the publishers put it. They picked the name."

"At least we don't have to call it 'Alexander's Essay' anymore," John said. "Unless you don't like the name?"

"Call it whatever you want," Alexander replied, setting the laptop aside. John picked it up and curled into the corner of the couch, his eyes scanning the words. Lafayette had already read many of the essay's drafts, but to John it was relatively new. 

"I still feel like we should be celebrating," Lafayette remarked, leaning over John's shoulder to re-read the essay. "We're practically rich now." 

Alexander shook his head. "We already celebrated once."  _And it was excessive._ They'd gone out to dinner with Eliza and Angelica the night that he'd found out he'd be published. Lafayette had paid with a one hundred dollar bill that he said he'd just happened to have in his wallet. Alexander was both surprised and concerned by this. First of all, his soulmate didn't have a job, though he did claim to have some money saved away. However, one hundred dollars was just enough money to get someone into trouble if discovered, and Lafayette was maybe just naive enough to get himself into a bad situation. Believing the best in people when there were thieves and gangs and... Alexander shut his eyes. He was going overboard. People carried larger sums around all the time. He was far too overprotective of Lafayette, and he needed to calm down. He got up and left them reading the essay, and chased the thoughts of his soulmate being mugged out of his head. They were too upsetting to think about. 

 

The next check came a day later. Alexander sat on his bed after classes, reading through his banking report online. Minus the thirty dollars he'd spent on the subscription, he had just become a thousand five hundred dollars richer in the course of a week. There were to be seven more installments of "The Moderate Papers", and while the per-word payment was less, the next installments were longer, making him about a thousand for each of those, too. Added to whatever Lafayette had saved and anything John was willing to contribute, they might finally be able to upgrade to a bigger apartment.

Poor John was still living at the fraternity, even though he got to spend much of his day at their apartment. The sad truth remained that he could not sleep on the couch every night, nor could he remain there for extended periods of time. For academic, working, and sleeping purposes, the frat remained his place of residence. From the way he spoke, it seemed that none of the people there liked him - something that Alexander could not wrap his mind around, no matter how long he lay awake trying to do so. John was incredible - kind, loving, compassionate...

... _I'm thinking in synonyms,_ he thought, propping his chin in his hands. He closed his eyes, remembering a conversation with Lafayette, just after they met. 

 _"You've made me stupid,"_ he had said.  _"I kind of love it."_ It was exactly the same now, only since there were now two people to love, two soulmates, he was even more ridiculous and distracted and happy. How anyone,  _anyone_ could find John Laurens - amazing, brilliant John Laurens - to be unlikeable was unfathomable. They must be even more stupid than the person they disliked had rendered him. 

Alexander turned back to his banking report and smiled a little. With the money, he could rescue John - rescue John, he liked the sound of that for some reason - from that awful place, and then he'd have both of his soulmates with him. Both of them in his life, for every moment of every day. Forever. This essay had been a blessing, for him as well as for anyone that it touched.  _If it touches anyone._ And maybe the  _Daily_ would be so pleased he could become a regular correspondent...

The door to his room burst open and Lafayette sailed in. One hand brandished his phone like a flag in a protest, and the other dragged John behind him. "Alexander! Alexander! Alexander!" he exclaimed. He released John with a shove and vaulted up onto the bed next to Alexander, throwing out the phone-bearing hand in front of Alexander's face and knocking a throw pillow over in the process. "Look! 30k! They want 30k."

"Lafayette," Alexander sighed. "That's a listing for insanely rich people, you  _know_ we can't afford 30k per month, probably no one ca-"

"Not 30k per month, 30k for keeps! They're selling it, see? Not renting it."

"Can you talk in English, please?" asked John, picking himself up off the floor. 

" _Oui, pardon moi, mon cher."_ He jumped down and showed the phone to John. "This is why I brought you in here, do you see? This man is selling the apartment for keeps and it is only 30,000 dollars. It is very cheap an apartment, to be sure, but we could fix it up,  _non_?" 

"Slow down a second," said Alexander, holding a hand against his forehead. "You found an apartment for sale that's only  _30_ k? Permanently? And it's got three bedrooms?"

" _Oui!_ To be fair, the rooms are very very small,  _trés petite,_ but that is not a problem for you, Alexander."

"Hey now..."

"Please say we can afford it? Please please please? I can literally find nothing else. It's this or John sleeps on the couch forever. Or I do and he takes my room. We could do that but -"

"No," said Alexander, flicking his eyes over the bank account. He glanced over at John. "What do you think?"

John lifted a shoulder and dropped it again. "I make 1000 a month, but I usually don't spend much of it. I think I have a good 5k saved away with another paycheck coming soon. Couldn't we take out a loan, though? Do mortgage or something?"

Alexander cocked an eyebrow. "Wait, you haven't spent your paycheck in five months? How does that work?"

"It's a long story."

"I guess so." He turned to Lafayette. "I can afford to take out eight thousand without going bankrupt. Even if we use the rest of the money from this essay, that still puts us short. We might need to wait a few months." Sure, he had the money left over from what he'd gotten when his parents died, and some cash from the odd essays here and there, before the "Moderate Papers" got picked up - but if those took off... 

"I can cover the rest."

Alexander paused, then turned to John, who looked equally confused. He turned back to the freshman. "How?"

Lafayette's eyes dropped, and then he said quietly, "Remember how I told you I used to live with my grandmother?"

It took Alexander about three seconds to understand, and when he did, he felt like a complete idiot. "Oh, Laf..." He reached out and gently took his soulmate's left hand in his right. "Why didn't you tell us?" 

"You never asked." Lafayette lifted his head and squared his shoulders. "Anyway, I have a lot left. So I can cover the rest. Can we buy it?"

Alexander looked from his smiling face to John's, quiet in hope and anticipation. "Yeah," he said. "I think we can buy it."

"Good! Because I already contacted the man and told him we were going to come see it on Friday."

"Of course you did," John laughed. He let Lafayette hug him, and then let go as his phone buzzed. "Hang on a sec." His broad smile faded as he read the name on the screen, and then he looked up. "I have to take this, you guys. I'll just be a minute." 

"No problem," said Alexander. "Who is it?"

"No one important." John looked at Alexander, seeming like he wanted to say something else, but then he gave another smile. "I'll be right back." 

He stepped out of the room to take the call. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't initially want to cast my own political views over the title of the essay, but "Federalist Papers" wouldn't work and neither main party lined up with the Federalist platform. So I decided on "Moderate Papers", though I promise this is not going to get ultra political. I really want everyone to get along and enjoy this fic no matter their background. I just thought "Moderate Papers" to be the most accurate and least offensive while remaining mostly correct.


	13. The Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A phone call from his father leaves John filled with questions and anger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some people are all excited that I made another Les Mis reference, but there's actually also a song in Jekyll and Hyde (just listened to that!) with the same name, so I'm referencing two shows... in a fan fiction about a show! Woot! 
> 
> Anyway, I know that sometimes I take a long time to write these chapters, so while you wait, you can check out my two blogs, middlehyrule.wordpress.com, and theeccentricauthor.wordpress.com, or you could read my book, "The King's Decree" by H.G. Warrender, available on Amazon, Barnes&Noble.com, and CreateSpace e-store for ten dollars. Just a thought. Cause if you like my writing, there are two hundred pages of it, just saying... I'm also working on a book with my cousin, Luveverlark, but sadly we haven't released that to the public yet, as we're still in the process and probably will be for a while. In any case, when fanfic is at a low, please read any of those instead and support me!!! *finishes sales pitch and sails away*

John looked around for a place to take the call, then finally stepped outside of the apartment altogether. He stared at the name on the screen for a moment, then drew a deep breath and swiped to accept the call. Starting down the stairs, he lifted the phone to his ear. "Hello." 

"John, where are you." 

John sighed. "Hi to you, too, Dad."

"I shall not waste time with pleasantries when the intent of this conversation is what you would consider the opposite," his father replied stiffly. He always spoke quickly and with large words, as if thinking John wasn't intelligent enough to keep up. "I asked a question, and now I expect an answer. Would you like me to restate it?" 

John leaned against the wall, having reached the bottom of the stairs and rounded the building to the side. "Fine. I'm in New York City, near King's College. That good enough?"

"I dislike your sassy attitude," Henry Laurens said dryly. He had never liked it, as long as John had been alive - had never tolerated anything that he found similar to sass, which he said was a display of tactlessness and unintelligence, for as far back as John could remember. "I would like a reasonable answer from you, young man." 

John gritted his teeth and glared at the trash cans propped against the side of the building, forcing himself to uncurl the fist he had formed. He was finally happy. Finally free - felt free, at least. Finally had people who cared about him. And his father had to call him and ruin all that. "I told you," he said. "I'm still here. Going to King's, like you said." 

"A member of your fraternal organization contacted me and informed me that you are rarely ever seen anymore." 

Clench, unclench. "So you hired ten inebriates to spy on me?" he said bitterly. "How convenient for you." 

"Perhaps if you would conduct yourself with a mild tone, our interactions could be more pleasant. I happen to know that you are not currently at the resident home of the Phi Kappa Alpha fraternity, which begs the question - where are you?"

John was silent.

" _Where are you, John?_ "

"I'm with friends."

"What friends?"

"They're students at King's. I'm just here at their apartment." 

"And are they listening to this conversation?"

"No. I'm outside." 

"Who are these people, then?" 

John closed his eyes.  _You already have my childhood,_ he thought.  _You stole that from me and made it into a nightmare. You chose my college and my major and the place I lived. You have my whole life in your pocket. You can't have Alexander and Lafayette too._

"John." There was a long pause, and then Henry said softly, "John, have you found one of... them?" 

He spoke the words as though finding soulmates was the same as developing a rare sickness - in John's case, at least. John squeezed his eyes shut a little more, knowing he'd never be able to hide it for long.

"I found both of them," he whispered. 

Another long pause. Then - 

"I see." Henry cleared his throat. "And what are their names?"

John was tempted to lie for a moment, but somehow knew he couldn't. That was the terrible thing about his father. He always found out the truth, which made it so that lies were useless to begin with. "Alexander and Lafayette." 

"Lafayette?" Henry seemed to muse over this for a moment. "Curious name... a last name?"

"Yes." 

"Is Lafayette male or female?" 

"Why does that matter?" 

"Because I say it does. Male or female?" 

"Male." John winced, knowing that this would be followed with some offensive joke. 

"So my son has two soulmates, and they are both men. Excellent." 

"It's not like that." 

"Of course not," Henry purred. John bit down on his tongue to keep himself from lashing out. 

"I," he began slowly, "love Alexander and Lafayette. Very much. But it's not the way you think." 

"Of course not," his father repeated in the same tone as before. Then, "You do realize, of course, that you are bringing disgrace and embarrassment onto an honorable organization?" 

"By not getting drunk with the frat guys?" 

"Phi Kappa Alpha has existed as long as King's University has. It's members come from high society. You should be honored to call them your fraternity brothers."

"They're disgusting pigs." 

"Additionally, it has an excellent relationship with the twin sorority. The young ladies should be noble additions to your circle." 

"Yeah, the girls are okay, but I'm not hap-"

"May I also point out," Henry interrupted, "that on the subject of girls, Martha has made several attempts to contact you and none of them have been met with any reply?"

John flinched. "I've been busy." 

"She is distraught." 

"Dad..." 

"Martha is an excellent young woman. Well-taught, brought up properly..."

"She's a great girl, yeah," said John. He felt so _helpless,_ like the words he used to defend himself were small birds that his father shot down one after the other. Distractions to keep him from pointing the gun at John himself. 

_"John, this is Martha," his father said. "I'm sure you know my friend Mr. Manning, her father?"_

_"Yes." John stared at the girl, with her neat dress and her perfect hair, and her father's icy eyes looking down on both of them. "H-hello, Martha."_

_"I would appreciate it if you would show Martha around the plantation," said Henry. Plantation, who used that word anymore? "Her father and I have business matters to discuss."_

_"That would be so nice!" said Martha eagerly. "Please, John?"_

_"Oh... sure," said John. "Um, this way."_

_They had gone on a walk around the plantation, and then she had been hungry, so he'd driven her in his new car to get a milkshake. Then she had wanted to hold his hand. A few months later it was movies on Saturdays and hours alone with her on the front porch, while their fathers discussed business inside and John sketched, waiting for it to be over and for her to go home. She made him do sketches of her, chattering all the while. She had followed all his social media and sent him regular messages. And every time he tried to tell her that he didn't feel the same, his father would be there, glaring at him, and shooting down the birds of a sentence that he knew he would never be able to say. From sixteen and on. Every time he came home from King's, Martha was there. And every time he was about to tell her the truth, Henry Laurens's gaze would make the words stick in his throat._

"She's a great girl," he said now. "But I don't... love her. I've tried. I really have. But I just don't." 

"All the same, I expect you to return here for the Christmas break, when that rolls around." 

"Do I have to?" John asked, and then instantly regretted it. He sounded like a child.

"Yes, you do have to," Henry said firmly. He didn't mimic John, which in a way was almost worse. "As a matter of fact, bring those two boys along. Your  _soulmates._ I would like to meet them and evaluate whether or not you may continue your association with them. Until then, you are not to visit them at their apartment anymore." 

John swallowed hard. "That's the thing," he mumbled. "It's not just... their... apartment." He gulped again. "Not anymore." 

"You're moving in with them?"

"Yes." 

"No."

"But -"

But having delivered his verdict, Henry continued, ignoring John's plea. "By the way, is there anyone else there?" 

John sighed. "Alexander's girlfriend Eliza stops by sometimes." 

"Excellent. You may bring her, too."

"Dad -"

"I want you to go inside and tell these boys your plan, and then you will return to Phi Kappa Alpha and your life there." 

John's face burned with anger, and his hand coiled into a fist again. "No," he whispered. 

"Excuse me?" 

"I'm not leaving Alexander and Lafayette," he said firmly. "I won't. You can't make me."

"Amusing though your childish anecdotes are, John, I would prefer you obey my orders without question." 

"I am moving in with them as soon as I can," said John. "I've already promised them six thousand dollars to fund a new apartment. And I'm not going to change that."

"If you disobey me, I will cut off the support I give you." 

"I'll work harder and stop saving everything." 

There was a very long pause.

"Very well," said Henry at last. "You do that. But you will return for your break, and you will bring both of them with you. Alexander and... Lafayette, was it?"

"Yes." 

"Pretty name. French?"

John paused. "Y-yes, how did you -"

"Lafayette," Henry mused. "Ah, I remember. Sixteen years back, the Lafayettes were killed in a terrible car accident. Marie and Michel. So wealthy. Such a tragedy. Members of the French upper class, is that right? Highly wealthy, father might have been president some day."

John couldn't breathe. "But they're not..."

"Of course, the real tragedy was the two year old son they left behind. Poor boy. He would be what, eighteen now?"

 _Lafayette's eighteen,_ John realized. "It's not him. It can't be."

"I recall the pictures they showed on the news," Henry continued. "Of the couple, when they had been alive. Both had lovely brown eyes. So deep. Very handsome couple - especially the mother. Uncommonly beautiful she was - dark curls, light brown skin. Her son was said to be the spitting image of her."

John felt his heart hammering against his ribs. "He can't have any connection to them. He would have told us." 

"Of course, of course," said his father, sounding almost smug. "Well, I'll say goodbye now, John. Do tell your soulmates about the break. If they made other plans, it would be so... inconvenient."

John hung up without saying goodbye. 

 

Lafayette and Alexander were both sitting on the couch when he came back in. They looked up at his approach. 

"Hey!" said Alexander, waving him over. "You were gone for a long time. Who was that?"

"Just my dad." John ran a hand through his hair. After the call ended, he had stayed outside, slumped against the wall, head in his hands. Only his father could have that effect on him. He forced a smile quickly. "Hey, I know it's not for a while, but I'm going home for Christmas break and he told me to invite you two to come along. And Eliza, if she's interested." He omitted the fact that it had been a demand, not a request. "I live in South Carolina, so it's a bit of a haul, but if you'd like to come, you're welcome."

"That was nice of him," said Lafayette. John cast a glance at him. Marie Lafayette, wife of a potential French president, had died in a car crash, and her son was said to be the perfect copy of her. Her son who was now eighteen. _"_ _Uncommonly beautiful. Dark curls, light brown skin."_

 _What are you hiding?_ John wondered as he stared at his soulmate. But he kept smiling. 

"Yeah, I guess. So did you talk to the guy selling the apartment?"

"I already did, remember?" Lafayette looked puzzled. "I told you that before you left."

"Right, right." John nodded. "Sorry, forgot."

Alexander was staring at him intently. He could feel the writer's eyes boring into him - almost  _through_ him - but he didn't meet the gaze. Nor did he look directly at Lafayette, instead fidgeting with the cord on his sweatshirt. "Well, I actually had better get going," he said. "The guys lock the doors at seven." A lie, but he couldn't stay any longer. The conversation with his father had drained him. 

"You are sure you don't want to stay the night?" asked Lafayette. "I can sleep on the couch instead, if you want." 

"Nah. But thanks."

"John, if something were wrong, you'd tell us, wouldn't you?" said Alexander suddenly. John turned to look at him and gave a very false smile. 

"Of course," he said. "You're my soulmates. We don't keep secrets." He glanced over at Lafayette as he said this, but no change came over the boy's face. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow." 

"Yeah," said Alexander. He studied John for a moment, then got up and embraced him. John felt something inside of him break, and his entire being flooded with warmth. Then with sorrow as he remembered that the person holding him was not the person holding his life - that that person was a tyrant to his happiness, would do anything to destroy it. Tears flooded his eyes. Everything in him screamed to hug Alexander back and stay there forever. Instead he pulled out of his soulmate's arms and turned so neither could see the tears shimmering at his eyelids.

"Bye," he whispered. 

"Bye," said Alexander with equal softness. Lafayette was silent. John walked out the door. The moment it closed behind him, he broke into a run. In about five seconds, he was in the front seat of his car, draped across the steering wheel, crying for all he was worth. His phone buzzed, and John glanced over at it through his tears. 

MM: Henry says you're coming home for Christmas?

John slapped away his tears, rolled down the window, and threw the phone out. Then he flicked the key and drove away, still hearing Henry's words in his head and feeling Alexander's arms around him. 


	14. Sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time passes. People move. 
> 
> The sun rises in New York City.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I had to hurt John in the last chapter, so I made you a trio fanart to make up for it. 
> 
> ( 0- 0)/\\(^.^)/\\(0 _0) 
> 
> (This is actually the extent of my artistic ability. I am not an exceptional artist. Maybe I'll do a real art at some point anyway, though.)

Snow peppered the streets of New York City the next morning, casting a light white mist over everything - clinging to the corners of the windowpanes, resting atop lampposts and buildings, looking almost like powdered sugar. Time slipped by, fluttering out of reach, intangible as the snowflakes that graced the world. Alexander and his soulmates spent Thanksgiving with the Schuylers. Two more installments of his essay were published. Days flew past, and soon only one page remained on the calendar. 

They purchased the apartment. Since not all the installments had been published yet, Alexander didn't have as much money to contribute as he had hoped, but Lafayette covered it. Alexander insisted that he would pay him back. He felt terrible for letting the freshman pay it to begin with, but he knew they had to get John away from his current residence as soon as possible.

Eliza and her sisters came to help out on moving day, and they drove everything from the old apartment to the new in Angelica's pickup truck. The new apartment was less than a mile away, so they were able to make multiple trips without too much difficulty. The youngest Schuyler sister, Peggy, explained that she was studying for a major in design and came up with several layout plans, complete with furniture and decor - all of which she selected, and very little of which was actually purchased. After five hours, the six of them ended up on the floor amidst stacks of books, eating sandwiches, talking, and laughing together for a long time.

The Schuyler girls left around ten. Alexander stayed up writing for two more hours, sitting on one of the unpacked boxes, since the couch was covered in more of the same. Lafayette sprawled out across the floor and went over Peggy's plans, just so he could tell her that he had. John perched on the arm of a chair and sketched the scene from earlier - his two soulmates and the three girls and a young man who finally began to feel happy. When he finished the sketch, he started carting boxes of his stuff to his room and unpacked. Alexander watched him go and noted the smile on his soulmate's face, which hadn't faded since the moment he walked through the door. Alexander felt that happiness mirrored on his own face. Shaking his head, he returned to his writing.

Around midnight, Lafayette fell asleep on the floor. Alexander paused in his writing to spread a blanket over him, and then kept right on going. John came back into the room, took one look at the scene, and said,

"Will you be sleeping tonight?"

"No." 

"Lots to write?" 

"You know me." 

"I guess I do," said John, sounding almost surprised. He sat down on the couch, which he has since cleared of boxes, and after a minute, Alexander sat next to him. John picked up his sketchbook again, but didn't move the pencil across it for about ten minutes. After that very long pause, he said suddenly - "Alexander?" 

"Hmm?" 

"Is it okay if I draw you?" 

Alexander turned to look at John. "Draw me?" 

"You don't have to pose or anything. I just want to do a portrait sketch." 

"Yeah, when do I get to see these drawings of yours anyway?" Alexander reached over and pried the sketchbook gently out of John's hands. 

"That one's new," said John as Alexander flipped back to the first page. "I only have a couple things in it." 

"Are these turtles?" asked Alexander, tracing the small animals drawn from every angle. 

"I think they're cute." 

"What's up with this one's neck?" 

"It's a special kind of turtle." 

"It's ugly." 

John pulled the sketchbook back and swatted Alexander with it. 

"It's a great sketch, though." 

"Oh yeah, now you save face." 

"No, I mean it. It's good." Alexander took the book back and opened it again. "It's actually  _really_ good. Are you studying for an art major?" 

John shook his head. "Pre-law." 

"Pre-law? You're interested in that?" 

"No." John bent his head over the sketchbook again without further comment and started to draw. Alexander turned back towards his essay, listening to John's charcoal pencil glide across the paper. It gave a soft scratching noise that complemented the clicking of the laptop keys as Alexander touched up the next section of his essay. Occasionally the soft scratching noise would fade, so that only the clacking could be heard. When it did, Alexander could feel John's eyes on him, studying him, before resuming the sketch. He asked a few times if he had to hold still, to which John only said no, he could keep writing, and that he wasn't moving his head much anyway. Eventually he stopped talking and let a peaceful, comfortable quietness settle over them - not exactly silence, as the sounds of their work were still present, though soft. But neither Alexander nor John spoke. Somehow, it seemed better that way. 

Alexander stole a glance at John as he wrote. The artist was bent over his work, one hand holding the paper steady, the other guiding the pencil across it. A single lock of hair had escaped from his ponytail and hung down, almost touching the surface of the paper. He kept tucking it back, only for it to fall again. In the low light, his freckles were all distinct, so much that they probably could have been counted. He sat at an angle to Alexander, one side bordered by the arm of the couch and the other by the back, his knees drawn up to his chest, and the sketchbook across them. Alexander smiled a little and turned back to the essay. As John began shading in the sketch, he asked Alexander to lift his chin, or reached over to brush Alexander's hair behind his shoulders rather than over it and have a clearer view of his profile. Then the silence seemed to take a new turn - neither of them seemed quite as lost in their work anymore, and Alexander felt his mind turn back towards what had been on it constantly. 

"John, do you want to talk about the phone call with your dad?" he asked quietly, not looking at his soulmate as he spoke. 

"Some other time," John murmured, also not lifting his head. 

"Because if you want to tell me..." 

John looked up, and Alexander turned to meet his gaze. "There are some parts of me that I have to keep for me, Alexander," he said softly, almost sadly. Alexander nodded and turned back to the essay, though his mind still burned with questions. They both continued working. There was another long pause, a stillness accompanied by the scratch of the pencil and the clack of the keys, and then suddenly John stopped. "Okay," he said. "I'm done." 

Alexander closed the laptop and turned to look at his soulmate. "Can I see?"

"Here." John handed the sketchbook over. Alexander looked down at it, and his breath caught. 

It was him, perfectly captured, but somehow different. His eyes were brighter than he would have drawn them, if he were able to, and seemed thoughtful, acting almost as windows into his mind. He could imagine what the Alexander of the picture was thinking, almost exactly, and yet somehow knew he could never put the thoughts reflected there into words. The sketch was from the waist up, but his left hand reached up to tangle the fingers in his hair - a gesture Alexander made often without realizing it. The small quill pen was visible on his wrist. He seemed to be breathing, filled with motion yet frozen in time. The lines of his face were shaded carefully, almost reverently, each one exact and accurate. The faint ripple in the fabric of the shirt he was wearing suggested that he was caught in a light breeze, as did the way his hair seemed to be lifting slightly off of his shoulders. Alexander looked at the picture for a long time, then over at the artist, and in that moment he knew that his friend loved him. 

"What do you think?" John asked with a smile. 

"It's amazing," Alexander said quietly. "It's..." He trailed off. "How did you do that?" 

"I don't know. It just happens." John tapped the laptop, then got up and crossed the room and began rummaging in a box. "It comes to me and appears on a paper. Like you and words." 

Somehow that perfectly described how writing felt for him, in such a brief sentence. Alexander studied the drawing until John's hand gently took it away. He spritzed it with a small spray bottle in his hand to set the charcoal and keep it from smudging. 

"I've drawn you a couple times before," said John, setting the sketchbook on top of a stack of boxes. "Just quick sketches. I'll show you sometime. I did Lafayette once or twice, too, but those were also quick." He replaced the spray bottle in the box. "What time is it?" he asked. 

"Three thirty." 

John sat down on the couch next to him. "Let's stay up all night." 

"Doing what?"

His soulmate shrugged. "Don't know. We'll figure that out." 

Alexander turned to him. "How about you tell me why you were crying the other day, then?" 

"When?" 

"When your father called." 

John sighed and ran a hand through his hair, absently letting it down and pulling it back up again. "My father... he doesn't respect me very much. Not at all, really. He's running for Governor of South Carolina, and he thinks I'm going to ruin it somehow."

"Why?"

"You know those people who think having two soulmates is... I dunno, wrong?"

Alexander nodded. He'd heard the stories, of course. People who thought that a second soulmark was the sign of a genetic mutation. Extreme cults who thought their gods had cursed anyone evil with a second mark. Government officials who were worried that if the population of people with multiple marks grew, it would require the tedious legalization of polygamy. Now that he had met both of his soulmates, Alexander knew for a fact that every one of those groups were wrong. This was not a curse. This was not a mistake. It was a blessing, and a gift. "Your father is one of those people?"

"He doesn't think it's a sign that Ba'al has turned his back on me or anything, no," said John, and Alexander chuckled. "He just thinks in my case, it's not good. The truth is, my father would prefer if I had no marks, so he could marry me off to anyone he chose and get me out of the way. I'm too rebellious, in his eyes. Bad for the family. Bad for his career. With yet another thing to set me apart." John glanced down at his wrists. "He's... not very kind to me. To anyone, really. He wants to control my life." He sighed. "He chose this school, and my major. Also the frat where I lived. He thinks he owns me." 

"Do you think that?" 

John looked up, and Alexander took both of his hands gently. 

"Do you think that he controls your life?"

"No," John whispered. "I am in control of myself." 

"Then show him that." 

They looked at each other for a while, and then John turned his head as he heard the soft sounds of water droplets plunking against the windows. 

"It started raining," Alexander observed. 

A smile played across John's face. He got up, pulling Alexander with him and leading him by the hand. 

"Come on," he said. "Let's go on to the roof." 

"We'll be drenched!" 

"Exactly." 

They climbed out the window and up the fire escape, onto a ladder and then onto the flat roof. The world was still grey, the roofs of New York City covered in a cloud of shadow, with another layer of cloud forming a weeping sky. John tipped his head back and caught the rain in his mouth, and Alexander watched as raindrops rolled down his nose and along his temples, tracing his face like tears. He slowly felt his clothes surrender to the water, and it ran along his skin, peppering his hair, clinging to his eyelashes. Then he laughed, and so did John, and they stood on the roof, surrounded by a quiet city. Their laughter echoed off the roofs and through the wet air. John ran forward, as if to leap into flight, and slipping on the rain, fell with a splash to the ground. In an instant, Alexander was at his side. "Are you alright?" 

But John just laughed and lay there in the half-inch of water on the roof, closing his eyes and letting the rain soak him, washing away all his memories, all his fears. Alexander smiled and shook his head. 

"What's going on up here?" mumbled a sleepy voice from behind them. Alexander turned to see Lafayette, hands on the top rung of the ladder, head just above. "I fall asleep and you leave me on the floor?" His hair was down, and he was already very wet. 

"Sorry," said Alexander, helping him up onto the roof. "Should we have woken you up?"

"Probably not." He curled up in the miniature lake near John and closed his eyes, but did not sleep. Alexander sat next to them and looked up at the sky, watching the shades of grey grow lighter and lighter, until slowly the rain turned to a drizzle and orange crept across the sky. 

"John," he whispered. "Laf. Look." 

His soulmates both opened their eyes, and the three of them stood up. 

"Sunrise," Alexander said. 

He felt a hand slip into his left, and another into his right, and together they watched the world come alive. 


	15. All Lives Matter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio and Eliza get ready to head to South Carolina.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY PHILIP!!!

"I'm just surprised you didn't all catch pneumonia," said Eliza, shaking her head. "Honestly, do you boys have any sense?"

"...No?" said Lafayette, who in fact had caught a small cold after their roof excursion last week. 

They were sitting at the table in their new apartment, Alexander typing up a homework paper and Eliza cooking dinner. She was in and out of their apartment now. With all their finals underway, none of the trio had any time to cook, which was where she came in. Beside that, though, both of Alexander's soulmates got along with her as well as he did - almost as if they were family. 

"Honestly, I'm not surprised." Eliza glanced at them over her shoulder. "It's just good none of you got sick."

Lafayette ducked his head behind a homework binder. 

"We were declaring our freedom and celebrating our new life together," said John.

"At four A.M. in the rain? My gosh." Eliza laughed. "You're all soulmates because you're all crazy."

"Amen," said Alexander, raising his mug of coffee. Lafayette rolled his eyes at him, and Alexander smiled. 

"Hey Eliza," said John, looking up from his phone. "I have something to ask you."

"Yes?"

"I live in South Carolina, and I'm taking Alex and Laf home with me over Christmas break. Do you want to come?"

Eliza looked over at him, surprised. "Really?" 

"Yeah. My dad said you're welcome to come." 

Alexander glanced over at John, wondering if the invitation had really been given so politely. 

"That's nice of him! And are you driving straight through?" 

"Yeah." 

Eliza smiled. "John Laurens, driving, for what, ten hours? Sounds dangerous."

"If you come, you could drive," said Lafayette hopefully. 

Eliza considered as she scrambled some peppers around in the pan. "Well, I don't have any other plans, and Angelica and Peggy will both be out of town, so I guess I'll come along. You're sure he doesn't mind?"

"He practically insisted you come," said John.  

"Well, it's a plan, then." 

"Great!" Lafayette exclaimed.

"I want to drive at least halfway, though." 

John smiled. "Deal." He turned his eyes back to his phone and kept reading. Then he sat up suddenly and looked over at Alexander. "Alexander. Okay, I had a great idea for your essay. I just remembered."

"What is it?" Alexander asked. 

"All lives matter."

"I know...?"

"Yeah, so write that in the essay." John beamed. "See, the whole point of the essay is to show people everything that's wrong and corrupt, right?"

"Yes?"

"So show them something that's right and good," he said. "Black lives matter, white lives matter, Puerto Rican lives matter." He got up and struck an orator's pose. "Muslim lives matter. So do Christian lives and atheist lives. The lives of good people matter and the lives of not so good people matter. In fact, as my science teacher from fourth grade was so fond of saying, we  _are_ matter. So we all have to matter, right?" 

Lafayette giggled; John grabbed him by his hands and swung him around. 

"So Republican lives matter and Democrat lives matter and Moderate -" He pretended to toast Alexander's laptop - "lives matter. And gay lives matter, and straight lives matter, and men matter, and women matter, and little kids that run around creation screaming their heads off matter." 

"French lives?"

"Yup." John started spinning faster. "People without soulmarks, people with one soulmark -" He grabbed Eliza and spun her too - "and people like the three of us, with two soulmarks - they all matter. Everyone matters." 

"Even people who are evil? Like, Hitler or something?" asked Eliza breathlessly, squealing as she grabbed John's hands for balance.

"Yes."

"Why?" asked Alexander, and John raised an eyebrow at him. "You made a great argument, now support it. I agree with you, but I want to hear the conclusion." 

John stopped spinning and grabbed both Eliza and Lafayette by the waist, hugging them against him. "Because even if they do something terrible with that life, they have the potential to do something amazing," said John seriously. "All lives matter, not because all lives are great, but because all lives could be."

Alexander stared into his eyes from across the kitchen for a moment. John stood, breathing heavily, and met his gaze. 

"So I can put that in the essay?" Alexander asked. 

"Go ahead." John winked and let go of Eliza and Lafayette. "Just remember to say where it came from." 

Alexander nodded and started typing. 

 

H.L.: What did they say?

John sighed heavily. It was late at night, and he was in his room flipping through messages - on his new phone - when the text from his father arrived. 

J.L.: They're coming. Happy?

H.L.: And the girlfriend?

J.L.: Also coming. We'll be there in a week. Bye.

H.L.: How are your fraternity brothers?

It was a carefully poised question, designed to put him off guard. The gun was trained on him again. The world hung silent, waiting for him to let the birds fly - to freedom or to death, if they did not meet the requirements of the man behind the gun. 

J.L.: Don't know.

H.L.: Are you living with your soulmates, then?

He always wrote in full sentences, another way to complete the effect of power and efficiency that could be shown even through a text. 

J.L.: Yes. 

_And I watched the sun rise on the roof with them last week, remember how I always told you I was looking forward to doing that when I found my soulmates? Remember how you made me drive off and watch the sun rise with Martha? Remember that? You dragged me out of bed at four in the morning. And I had dreamed about them that night, do you remember how I told you that as you shoved me into the car?_

H.L: You must care about them very much. 

Another example of posing - implying that affection might not be returned. John scowled, and his fingers flew across the phone without his consent. 

J.L.: I love them more than anything in the world. 

H.L.: How nice for you. Well, see you in a week, then. 

John flicked the phone off and tossed it into a drawer across the room. He crawled into bed, still angry.

 _I hate my father,_  he fumed. He would have to go back there, to that house, to Martha, to the father who had turned his childhood into a bad memory.

 _I_ _f I have to go back there,_  he thought, closing his eyes, _at least I'll have them with me this time. And if they're with me..._

_...nothing can be so bad at all._


	16. Early Departure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The four set out for South Carolina.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I have an ANNOUNCEMENT. *clears throat* I have just opened a Broadway Gift Exchange collection, fanfiction for all Broadway fandoms. Sign-ups run through February. I would love it if EVERYONE reading this would sign up or at least consider it. It's going to be a ton of fun, and so please sign up! You can do Les Mis, you can do Hamilton, you can do In the Heights, you can do anything ya like. So if you want to support me or just have a good time, head on over there!

Lafayette ran through the list of everything he had to pack for the fifth time. He would know at this point if he were missing anything, so he zipped up the suitcase and set the list aside. Then, exhausted, he flopped back across his bed and sighed. 

It was five in the morning. He'd been awake for an hour, unable to fall back asleep, and decided to go over everything again. They were leaving at six. With luck, they'd get to John's house around eight. But that was a generous estimate. Over the past weeks as they prepared to leave, John had grown more and more apprehensive. He kept telling them things like, "If my father is nasty, it's not my fault" and "I hope this will go well, but if not...". This confused Lafayette. If he thought it was going to be terrible, why had he invited them to come? But maybe John was just worried that they had high expectations which his home and family wouldn't live up to. Because he didn't have high expectations, and because he loved John, Lafayette always tried to assure him that everything would be fine. 

Henry Laurens, John's father, was apparently very rich, and happened to have three spare bedrooms lying around. Lafayette groaned as he remembered when John had told him that. 

 _"Growing up with all that extra space, what was that like?"_ _Alexander had asked._

_"Lots of exploring," Lafayette replied without thinking. Both Alexander and John had turned to look at him, and he realized his mistake. "Just me and my grandmother," he'd said. "Big house all to ourselves. We got my parents's house when they did, do you see?"_

_Alexander had nodded, given his hand a sympathetic squeeze. But John had raised an eyebrow slightly and then changed the subject._

That was so stupid, but then again, it was stupid not to tell...

...but he closed his eyes against the thought, and pulled a pillow over his face. 

He took the pillow off after a second and looked over at his clock. It was 5:10. The sun was creeping over the sky. Maybe he should go and wake up his soulmates, but Alexander was really not happy about being woken up, so that could end badly. And he did not want to be stuck in a car with an annoyed Alexander for eleven hours, or however long this took. 

 _Good thing he's not driving, or he'd get distracted by some idea for his essay and kill us all,_ Lafayette thought fondly. 

He got out of bed and changed into jeans and a King's University t-shirt, pulling his hair up into his usual ponytail. Then he ran through the list of everything to pack yet again, and found that he still had everything. So why did he still feel like he was missing something?

They'd arrive in South Carolina that night and remain there for a week, before returning home. Which meant they'd be spending Christmas -

Lafayette jumped up and ran to the closet, remembering that he had forgotten Eliza's gift. When he had it safely tucked into his suitcase along with everything else, it was only 5:20. He groaned. What was the point of sitting there, anyway? Alexander was almost certainly awake and stressing over the essay. Wait, Lafayette had the laptop, didn't he?

He glanced over at his nightstand and realized that, no, he did not have the laptop. 

"ALEXANDER HAMILTON!" 

Lafayette flew out of his door, across the hall, and into Alexander's room. Sure enough, his soulmate was awake, sitting on the side of his bed typing away. He looked up as the door slammed open. Lafayette jumped up onto the bed, grabbed the laptop in one hand and a pillow in the other, and simultaneously flipped the laptop closed and slammed the pillow across Alexander, who fell back. 

"Caught! Caught in the act!" 

"Good morning to you too, Laf," Alexander wheezed out in French. 

"Good morning, you dirty liar. You promised me you would not touch that laptop. I should burn it." 

"Please don't. You'll break my heart. If you haven't already broken my ribs..." 

Lafayette examined the surprisingly heavy pillow, then reached into the case and withdrew five books, two binders, and Alexander's phone. He rolled his eyes. "What am I going to do with you?" 

"I don't sleep on that one." Alexander got up and stacked the pillows on his desk; Lafayette stood too and set the laptop on Alexander's desk.

"What is going on in here?" asked John from the door. Both turned to look at him. He was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, and his hair was down in a tangled mess. "I thought we weren't leaving till six." 

"It's almost five thirty, so we should be getting up anyway," said Alexander. "You sleep okay?"

John nodded. "Until you two started making so much noise."

"He stole the laptop!" 

"He hit me with a pillow full of books." 

"The books shouldn't have been there in the first place." 

Alexander stuck out his tongue in mock childishness; John and Lafayette both rolled their eyes.

"I'm starving." Lafayette grabbed John's hand and dragged him to the kitchen. Now that their backs were turned, Alexander reached towards the laptop. "Get your hands away from that laptop, Alexander," Lafayette called over his shoulder. 

Alexander scowled and followed his soulmates to the kitchen. 

"Now remember," said John, sounding a little nervous, "it's really not my fault what my father says or does. He's not very friendly."

"We know," said Lafayette and Alexander together as Lafayette pulled random cereal boxes from the cabinet. 

"And if he insults you, just remember that even though it's sincere, you shouldn't be offended because he does that to everyone." 

"We know." 

"And obviously if he says something so terrible you have to snap back, just try to keep it mild, please, or he'll get really nasty." 

" _We know."_

"And I'm going to love you no matter what happens, so -"

" ** _We know,_** " said Alexander and Lafayette, and Lafayette slammed the boxes down onto the table to complete the effect. John fell silent. 

"John, you're never like this," said Alexander. "What could possibly happen that's so bad? It's not like your dad could hurt us or anything." 

John looked away. "Words... can hurt a lot." 

"Try me." Alexander waited for his soulmate to look at him. When he didn't, Alexander grabbed his arm, leaned over, and kissed John's forehead. 

He had never done that before, to anyone. Not even Peter, before he turned horrible and cruel. Not even Eliza. But then, neither Peter nor Eliza felt like another piece of him, a person he had been made for, a friend who was closer than any words could describe. A  _soulmate..._

He pulled back, and John looked up at him. "Try me," Alexander whispered again, and he sat back down. 

Lafayette was staring at them with his face clasped in his cheeks. "That was  _so cute!_ " 

John just smiled. 

"You're a bad influence," said Alexander to Lafayette. "You're too French. It's rubbing off on me." 

Lafayette just laughed and poured himself an extremely unhealthy amount of cereal. 

"Hey Alexander?" said John quietly.

"Yeah?" 

"Don't do that in front of my dad. He'd be... weird about it." 

Alexander nodded. "Okay," he said. 

 

Eliza came out to the door dragging a suitcase behind her and carrying a big tote bag, which Lafayette took from her.

"Thanks." Eliza hauled her suitcase up into the trunk alongside all of theirs and fished a ball of yarn out of the tote bag. "So! How is everyone?"

"We're good," said John from the front seat, as Eliza climbed in back next to Alexander. Lafayette got in on the passenger side and turned around to face her.

"Eliza, you missed the cutest thing this morning."

"Oh yeah?" She asked, starting a crochet chain.

Alexander sighed. "Laf..."

"Alexander kissed John. On the forehead. It was seriously adorable."

Eliza dropped the crochet chain and turned to Alexander. "You did?"

"Yeah," Alexander mumbled. 

"Oh my  _GOSH,_ that is cute!" 

"I know, right?" Lafayette said eagerly.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, enough, please?" John flicked the key and slammed his foot down on the gas, speeding away. 

"If you're trying to distract us, it won't work," said Lafayette. 

"Did you get a picture?" asked Eliza.

"No, and I'm so disappointed!" 

"Awww!"

While they talked on and on, Alexander looked up and met John's eyes in the rearview mirror. His soulmate rolled his, then winked. Alexander smiled a little and sank lower into his seat. 

Eliza had made muffins, which she passed around despite Alexander's insistence that they had already eaten - an insistence which didn't keep him from consuming the muffin in approximately five seconds. Eliza was, among a thousand other things, a very good baker. 

They drove for two hours without stopping, at first lively with conversation. When that faded, Eliza produced a Broadway CD from somewhere in her purse and made Alexander sing it with her - when he refused, Lafayette obliged instead, prompting Eliza to say that he was her favorite of the trio, while mock-glaring at Alexander. He tried to take out his phone and write the essay on that at one point, but both Eliza and Lafayette noticed, and he wound up in a wrestling match with his girlfriend, who, to nobody's surprise, won and put the phone in her purse. 

In the midst of all the laughing and talking and belting of showtunes, though, Alexander noticed that John was unusually quiet. As they drove out of the city and into Jersey, he seemed to be concentrating heavily - not exactly on the road, but on some thought written before his eyes, for which the road was substituting, as both it and the thought carried him closer and closer to a place where there lurked some terrible fear that his soulmate would not - could not - share. 

 _What happened to you?_ Alexander wondered, noticing how the artist's eyebrows furrowed, sending wrinkles across his forehead.  _What did he say to you? What won't you say to me?_

_And what are you so afraid of?_


	17. Meeting Henry Laurens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a twelve hour car trip involving everything from an eye-therapy session to Lafayette falling asleep on his soulmate's shoulder, Alexander, his soulmates, and Eliza at long last arrive in South Carolina and are introduced to John's father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sign-ups for my gift exchange are still open and will remain open through February. PLEASE sign up, I have four people now (including myself) and would love to get it up to ten! I'll give a shout-out on this fic to anyone who signs up for the exchange (leave a comment telling me ya did, though.) Please?
> 
> I was feeling a little concerned, so I went back and re-re-re-read "All Lives Matter" and went through it with a friend, and we noticed a couple of things that could possible be misinterpreted and cause offense. If you were offended by absolutely anything in that chapter or in any other chapter, PLEASE TELL ME. I have to know. I never never mean to be offensive to anyone about anything. The point of that chapter was to show that I and these modernized versions of our Founding Fathers believe all people to be equal. I didn't think that could cause offense, but to be safe I'll be touching up the chapter a little (which I think will make it better anyway.) So PLEASE do not be offended anymore, if you were, and understand that I never intended to seem rude or unkind, and I will be changing the chapter so that there will be no accidental misunderstandings. Sorry again for any mix-up!

They drove. 

Occasionally they'd rotate the seats, so sometimes John and Alexander were in front and sometimes they were in back. At first they tried to pull over as little as possible, but found that driving for more than four hours straight was infuriatingly boring, so from then on they would pull over at least once every other hour, if only to get out and get back in again after a two minute breather. 

Eliza played through the whole Broadway CD, and then a second, after which she finally put both away and kept crocheting. Alexander was permitted to take out his laptop and work on his essay for about an hour, but this was only because both Eliza and Lafayette were in the front. John handed it to him quietly, held a finger to his lips, and winked, and Alexander felt warmth creeping across his face, glad to have someone on his side. As they drove further and further south, the snow around them vanished and the world sped past, seeming as though they were holding still and the roads, trees, and air were moving rather than the car. 

As Alexander wrote, John sketched. Alexander was beginning to be able to read his soulmate's thoughts and emotions, simply by the way he was sketching. If he took out the sketchbook purposefully and leaned back, drawing slowly and leisurely, then he was content. But if he acted like he did now, whipping out the book at random and erasing frequently, he was agitated, nervous. His hands twitched as he sketched and he couldn't seem to get the picture to look how he wanted. Alexander closed the laptop very quietly (not that it would have been heard over Lafayette and Eliza's loud conversation anyway) and looked over at John, who glanced up at him. The sea-green eyes locked on his own, and Alexander arched an eyebrow.  _Are you okay?_

John looked away, not meeting his eyes. Alexander took the sketchbook and opened to the page John had been working on. There was an unfinished sketch of an older man with a cold expression, and Alexander looked up at John, who just nodded, as if he could read the question written in Alexander's eyes. The man in the picture was Henry Laurens.  

Alexander set the sketchbook aside and looked at John, who drew a deep breath and forced a smile.  _I'll be okay,_ his eyes seemed to say.  _It's nothing. I'll be okay._ Alexander smiled back slightly. 

_Okay, then._

 

They pulled over to have dinner, and then switched seats around again once they crossed the border of South Carolina, and John took the wheel so he could get them to his house. Eliza moved over into shotgun, leaving Alexander and Lafayette in the back. Alexander sat on the left side, but Lafayette moved into the middle seat. 

"What time is it?" Lafayette mumbled. 

"Showtime," called John from the front as he started the car again. 

"Very funny."

"It's eight," said Alexander. "We'll be there in - what, a half hour, John?"

"More like forty-five minutes."

"Oh, good," said Lafayette. "I can take a nap."

And without another word he rested his head against Alexander's shoulder and closed his eyes.

"Wai-" Alexander started, but his soulmate was already sound asleep. Eliza said, "AW!" and then whipped out her phone to take a picture.

Alexander sighed. _Why, Lafayette, why..._

“What am I missing?” asked John, looking up in the rearview mirror. He raised his eyebrows. “Cute. Very cute.”

Alexander sighed and looked down at his sleeping soulmate. _Well, I guess I'm not gonna get him to move now._  In the low light Lafayette's curls and eyelashes cast shadows over his face. He looked peaceful, and content. Alexander felt a smile twitching at his lips, and at last he surrendered and let the smile spread. _I love you,_ he thought. He rested his cheek against the top of his soulmate's head and closed his eyes.

 

Alexander must have fallen asleep, for after what felt like a few minutes, John's hand was on his arm, shaking him awake. “Alexander, we're here.”

Lafayette opened his eyes. “Already? We have just fallen asleep.”

“You slept for a while. Time to get out,” said John. Eliza's face appeared next to his.

“You're in for, um... a bit of a surprise,” she said.

Alexander lifted his head and fixed his hair, and Lafayette straightened up with a sigh. “Let's go, then.”

They got out of the car, and Alexander looked around. They were parked on a brick driveway in front of an enormous house at the top of a hill, the driveway sloping down this. The sides of the driveway were lit by miniature streetlamps, and just ahead was a massive mansion, stretching up outside of the light spread by the lamps. At the foot of a marble staircase leading into the house, a man in a suit stood with a small woman by his side. Even from a distance, Alexander recognized him from the picture John had drawn - and even had he not seen that picture, he would have known the man as John's father at once. He had the same skin tone, the same longish hair that was tinged dark like John's, though it was graying noticeably. 

"Is he wearing a suit?" Eliza said, sounding intimidated. 

"Yep." John pulled his suitcase out of the trunk; Alexander tore his eyes away from the imposing figure just ahead and took his too. "Be careful, you guys." 

Eliza nodded, shouldered her purse and totebag, and grabbed her suitcase. 

"Alexander," said John, and Alexander turned to him. His soulmate extended his right hand. "I want you to hold my hand."

"Why?" 

"Because it will freak my dad out."

"I thought we were trying to avoid that." 

"I know. I just want him to know that he's not taking you from me. To establish that before this all starts." 

Alexander nodded and took the artist's hand, feeling his fingers lock quietly through his own, the quill pen line up with Alexander's. Alexander grabbed his suitcase with the other hand, and they all started up to the house. 

Henry Laurens studied them as they came up the steps, and they all stopped before him. Up close, he looked even more like John. Only his eyes and nose were different - the former were black, the latter was shaped like a hawk's beak, hooked. Glancing over at Mrs. Laurens confirmed to Alexander where the gorgeous sea-green eyes he had come to love came from. 

The four of them stood in silence, facing John's parents, while Henry's eyes glanced over each of them in turn. He let them rest for a bit longer on Alexander and John's clasped hands, before stepping forward. 

"Henry Laurens," he said, extending a hand. His left hand. To shake it, Alexander would have to release John's hand. He felt a shiver run down his spine, and he couldn't understand why. Reluctantly, he released his soulmate's hand. 

"Alexander Hamilton," he said, shaking. While John was freed from the handhold, Henry placed his other hand on his son's back and steered him away, towards his mother. He offered his hand to Lafayette next, his eyes studying his face. 

"Thank you for having us, Monsieur," said the freshman politely, shaking the offered hand. Henry flicked his eyes across the boy's features and raised an eyebrow for some reason. 

"The pleasure is all mine," he said. 

Eliza held out her hand first. "Elizabeth Schuyler, sir. Thank you for inviting us into your home."

"Schuyler? The daughter of Philip Schuyler, the senator?"

"Yes, sir." 

"An old friend. You're very welcome, my dear." He gave a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. 

His wife opened the door. "Please, come in. You must be tired after your long drive." 

 _Why do people always assume sitting in a car is tiring?_ Alexander thought, but he walked through the door. They found themselves in a large foyer, with a glistening chandelier fifteen feet above and a large staircase sloping up to a second floor, a balcony of which overlooked them. There were massive doorways to the left and to the right, and an enormous bouquet of flowers on a mahogany table near the staircase. Alexander resisted the urge to whistle. He looked over at John, who still was under Henry's hand. Henry whispered something to his son, who gave no reply. Releasing John, the man stepped forward and held out his arms in a friendly gesture. 

"I assume you've eaten?"

"Yes," Alexander, Eliza, and Lafayette chorused.

"Excellent. Well, your rooms are all ready for you upstairs. Is there anything we can get for you, or would you prefer to go right to bed?"

"Might I have a glass of water?" asked Eliza, almost timidly.

"Of course, dear," said Mrs. Laurens. "Follow me." 

Eliza cast a glance over her shoulder at the boys, but then followed John's mother out the left door. 

"Mr. Hamilton, your room is at the top of the stairs to the left. If you go all the way down the hallway and round the corner, it's the first door on the left. Yours is the last on the right, Mr. Lafayette," he added. "There are a lot of hallways, but if you go down straight, you'll come to it eventually. Do you want help with your cases?"

They both said no. 

"Well, good night, in that case. Breakfast is at eight tomorrow morning." 

They picked up their suitcases and started towards the staircase. John followed, but Henry called him back. "I'd like to speak with you a bit, John," he said. 

Alexander met John's eyes and flicked his towards the left hallway at the top of the stairs.  _Come talk to me when you're done._ John nodded and followed his father out of the room, and Alexander and Lafayette continued up the staircase. 

They halted at the top. Lafayette set down his suitcase for a moment to give Alexander a fierce hug. 

"Did you see how he looked at us? I'm worried about John," he mumbled into Alexander's hair. "Do you think we should have stayed with him?" 

"He's okay. He can look after himself." Alexander glanced down to make sure that Henry Laurens was no longer there, and then whispered, "John's coming to my room when he's done. He'll tell us what his father said before he goes off to bed."

"Can I come wait with you, then?" 

"Okay, come on." Alexander grabbed the freshman's hand and led him quickly out of sight, lest Henry or Mrs. Laurens return. 

 

Henry poured himself a drink from the decanter on the side table - who had those anymore? He drank, his eyes boring into the back of John's head. John leaned against the mantelpiece and stared into the fire. 

"They seem very polite," said his father after a long silence. 

"They are."

"You appear to be especially close with young Hamilton." 

John closed his eyes. "I'm tired, Dad. I think I need to just go to bed." 

"You will never hold hands with that boy in public again, do you understand me?" Henry snapped. "You show a complete lack of propriety. I am ashamed of you."

"We weren't in public." 

"Remember, John, that you are currently dating Martha."

"I'm not dating Alexander. I love him to death, but I'm not -"

Henry scoffed. "Oh, you love him, you  _love_ him, do you?!" 

John winced as he heard his father's glass slam down against the side table. 

"How would it affect my career, do you think, if word got out that my son had two marks?" Henry spat. "And that he not only lived with these people, he  _loved_ them? To death, nonetheless."

"I can't help it," John whispered. "They're my soulmates. I love them. I don't get a choice."

"And if you did have the choice?"

John closed his eyes. "I would love them anyway." 

His father  _harrumph_ ed. "John. A casual friendship with these young men would be acceptable. Perhaps a strong friendship, even, like the ones you ought to have formed at Phi Kappa Alpha." 

"If I told you they were like my brothers, would that satisfy you?"

Henry was silent for a moment, then whispered, "I am afraid not. Seeing how you treated the brother you did have."

"Dad -"

"Go to bed, John."  

John started to flee, but Henry called him back. 

"By the way, you are not to share a word of this with either of them," he said. "None of this conversation is to be relayed to Alexander Hamilton. Nor to that pretty French boy. Or to Eliza Schuyler. Truth be told, I doubt her father would be happy to learn of your association with her, if he knew the way you acted toward girls."

"I have never done anything wrong or unkind toward girls. All I did was try to dump Martha. And I'm not dating Eliza, so I can't dump her."

"See that you do not." Henry refilled his glass. "Tomorrow, Martha wants to come by. She is spending Christmas Eve with her parents, so she wishes to see you while she has the chance."

"But -"

"THAT IS FINAL!" Henry snapped. 

They glared at each other silent, for a moment, before John heard a squeak from the doorway. Both men turned to see Eliza standing in the doorway that led from the kitchen, her eyes wide. John deflated, wondering how much she had heard. 

"I-I'm sorry," she whispered. "Mrs. Laurens told me this was the quickest way to the staircase." 

"And she was right." Henry drew himself up and cast a warm smile at her. "Go right ahead, dear. You left your suitcase in the foyer?"

Eliza nodded. 

"Excellent. John, assist her in carrying it to her room."

"Come on, Eliza." John led her out of the living room and back into the foyer. When he grabbed for the suitcase handle, Eliza slammed her hand down on top of his and stared at him, wide-eyed. John gulped. 

"How much did you hear?" he asked. 

"Enough. Something about Martha. Who is she?"

"My girlfriend."

Eliza raised an eyebrow. "By choice?"

"By my father's orders." He picked up the suitcase. "Come on. Let's just go. Your room's on the third floor."

"Yes," said Eliza. "Yes, let's go." She squeezed his arm, and then followed him up to her room. 

 

Lafayette was sound asleep on Alexander's bed when the door opened and John came in. As soon as he heard the door shut, his eyes snapped open, and he sat up. "What took you so long?" he asked. 

John ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry. I'm really sorry. We were talking. Anyway, I'm tired, so I'm gonna go to bed, okay?"

"Do you want to talk about what happened?"

"Nothing happened. The usual happened. He just wanted to insult me and get me decently annoyed before sending me off for the night."

"What did he say?"

John met Alexander's eyes and smiled sadly. "Nothing worth repeating."

He glanced over at Lafayette, who wondered if he had said something wrong. From the way John's eyes ran over his face quickly, it seemed like he was trying to read the secrets locked inside his head. 

"Anyway," said John. "He'll be working, mostly. I'm going out for an hour or two tomorrow, but you're free to explore. We own a lot of land. Then maybe I can show you the town."

"Sure!" said Lafayette, getting up to go to his own room.

"Great." John smiled. "Good night, Alexander."

"Night."

Lafayette and John left, and John followed Lafayette down to his guest room. Outside the door, the freshman whirled on him.

"What are you keeping from me?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing, or so much you don't want to tell?"

John sighed. "Lafayette, I have to keep some secrets. I have to, sometimes. For your sakes." He grabbed the French boy's arms and looked down into his eyes. "And I know you're keeping things from me."

Lafayette looked away. 

"Someday." John let go of his arms. "Someday I can tell you. But not today. Alright?"

Lafayette looked back over at John, his eyes full of love and pity, and John lowered his to the floor. "Good night, Lafayette."

"Good night, _mon cheri._ " Lafayette kissed him lightly on both cheeks and slipped into his room. The door closed. John turned and started down the hall. 

 

 


	18. Secrets Revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Alexander sneak out of the house early in the morning to go watch the sun rise, and Martha Manning arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to Kitkatzgr8 for joining my exchange. Thanks so much! 
> 
> At this point, this story is longer than Hamilton itself. I'm planning to continue it because the plot is still ongoing, but if it's getting to be too much and you think I should wrap it up, let me know. I probably won't listen, but it would be good to know anyway. ;)

Alexander felt a hand cover his mouth early in the morning, instantly snapping him awake. He looked up to see John above him. He held a finger to his lips, released Alexander, and then waved him up. Alexander got out of bed, shrugged on a sweatshirt, and followed John out the door of his room. 

"Where are we going?" he whispered. 

"Shhh." John reached over and grabbed his hand. "Just follow me."

He led Alexander quietly through the sleeping second story of the house, softly and quickly. They passed closed doors and eventually turned into a narrow hallway and down a back staircase, small and rickety. John's hand was warm but not sweaty, and it was still firmly wrapped in Alexander's. 

They reached the bottom of the staircase, and John let go of Alexander's hand for a moment to unlock a back door. Alexander turned around as he heard a noise from another room. "John..." he whispered nervously. If someone were coming, and if that someone were Henry, this could end very badly. John's hand snatched his again and pulled him swiftly out the door, which he shut behind them. 

"Come on, run," said John. He led Alexander at a run down the back of the hill and across a sloping field, across ground covered in a light frost. The air was crisp and slightly chilly, but not as much as it would be in New York. The sky was still grey, and Alexander stumbled frequently without sufficient light to see by. They ran on for a while, before John went to the left, into a forest bordering the fields. He brought Alexander up a path through the woods, which sloped up on a hill.

"Where are we going?" Alexander asked again, half out of breath. John glanced at him over his shoulder and smiled.

"You'll see, just come on!" 

He half led, half dragged Alexander to the crest of the hill and then along the path for a bit, before suddenly it came to a halt and they were in a small clearing on the edge of a cliff. There were no trees here, and they could see clear over the land and the nearby town, for miles and miles. On the distance, just above some mountains silhouetted against the sky, the sun was beginning to climb.

"You gave me your sunrise," said John quietly. "Now I'm giving you mine."

He sat down on a log bench right behind them, and Alexander took a seat next to him. For a moment they were still, looking out over the waking world, just like in New York. They sat in that stillness and silence, a few inches apart, and then John rested his head on Alexander's shoulder. 

"I love you, Alexander," he murmured. 

"I love you, too," Alexander replied, smiling. He looked down at his soulmate. "So, may I ask why you brought me here?"

John looked away, at the slight lines of orange and pink seeping into the grey of the sky. "This was always my place when I was a kid," he said. "I came here all the time, when I needed to be alone. Which was often. It's always been mine. Now it's ours. And Lafayette's, if he weren't sound asleep." 

"You couldn't wake him?" 

"No." John shrugged a little, and his shoulder bumped against Alexander's arm. "But that's okay. I've been wanting to get you alone for a while. I need to thank you."

Alexander raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

"For saving my life."

"You mean grabbing you from in front the car? That was forever ago, you don't -"

"No, not just that time," said John. "There was another time, too. When I was sixteen."

"I didn't even know you when you were sixteen."

"I know. But one time, I came here and I stood on the edge. It was after my dad had been awful, and I didn't really know what to think or to do..." He closed his eyes. "So I stood on the edge of the cliff. Right there. And I thought to myself, 'if I jump off right now, no one is going to care.' And then I heard you." He ran his thumb absently over the back of Alexander's hand. "I heard your voice. I mean, I didn't know then that it was you, but looking back, it was definitely you speaking."

"And what did I say?"

"You said, 'wait for me'. That was it. And so I turned and walked away from the cliff and back down the path." He shrugged again and leaned closer to Alexander. "I don't know if I would have jumped. All I know is that I didn't, once I heard you."

Wait for me...

_Alexander slammed the door to his room shut and threw himself across his bed. They had told him to gather his things, that he wasn't allowed to stay there, but rather than do as he had been told, he crawled under the covers and pulled them over his head._

_Peter had been caught with five hundred dollars that he'd taken out of the cash box where he worked. Again. And this time, he would go to jail for it._

_"Peter, you PROMISED me you wouldn't do anything dangerous," Alexander screamed to no one. He collapsed against the headboard of his bed, trying not to sob and failing spectacularly. "You... promised," he coughed. That was the problem with getting close to people. They always left you. His mother died. The friends he made when living on the island drowned in the hurricane. Now his cousin, his guardian and only friend for years, was on his way to jail._

_Would his soulmates leave him, too? Someday?_

_Alexander gulped back some tears and looked down at his wrists. The shield and the quill pen._

_What if they weren't coming? Or what if they'd leave?_

_Or what if they were already gone... what if one of them had died?_

_No, Alexander thought, no no NO..._

_He clasped his hands together and bent his forehead against them. "Please," he whispered, "please, I need you. Please..." He swallowed hard. This was stupid, there was no way they could even hear him. But..._

_"Wait for me," he whispered. "Whoever you are, wherever you are, please just wait for me."_

"I said that," Alexander whispered. "I remember that. I was fifteen." He shifted to meet John's eyes, and his soulmate smiled, a little sadly. Alexander turned to look back at the edge of the cliff, which was now bathed in the dim yellow light of the brightening sky. John had stood there, a few years ago, and Alexander's words had somehow reached him. And now they were together, on the edge once again. Not in any danger of a plunge. Not a plunge off the edge of a cliff, at least. They were still taking a risk by being out here for so long, when John's father, the man who seemed to hold his life like the strings of a marionette, could grow suspicious and come after them, and if he saw them like this... 

...but Alexander closed his eyes, not caring what Henry Laurens thought of his friendship with his son. Alexander loved John. And John was alive. And that, somehow, was enough. 

"I'm sorry," John said softly. 

Alexander's gaze jerked back to him as Alexander himself was jerked back to the moment. "For what?" 

"For everything. I wake you up, take you here, and then I angst to you. I'm sorry." He lifted his head off of Alexander's shoulder, slipped his fingers out of the writer's grasp. He leaned away from the embrace and stood up. "I'm sorry. Let's go back."

"John?" 

"Mmm?" 

"You don't have to be sorry." 

John's lips twitched, seeming torn between a smile and a cry. "I am, though, Alexander. I really am." He turned back to look at the rising sun again. For a moment, silhouetted against the glowing sky, he seemed to be right at the edge, even though there were a few feet keeping him from it. 

"But I don't want you to be sorry." Alexander swallowed. Stupid words, serving him every day, except right now when he needed something to say, to pull the artist back from the edge all over again. Away from the edge and back to Alexander. "You don't have to apologize to me." He kicked a rock and looked down. "I-I've had bad things happen to me, too, before. Everyone has." 

"Yeah." They were silent for a moment, and then John stepped forward and lifted Alexander's chin so they were eye to eye. "But unlike me, you let them lie and forget about them. And that's what makes you better than me." 

He took Alexander's hand again, and they started back down the path. 

 

Eliza and Lafayette both stared out the window at the scene before them. 

It was ten o'clock. There was a car parked in the driveway. As they watched, John walked out the front door and up to the car. A pretty blonde girl practically flew out of it, and before either of them could register her features or anything about her, she grabbed John, slammed him against the car, and kissed him. 

"Wha...." Eliza trailed off. 

"John has a girlfriend...?" 

Eliza looked over at Lafayette. "You didn't know about this?" 

Lafayette shook his head. " _Non!_ He told me he had to run some errands. He was not saying anything to me about a girlfriend." 

Eliza raised an eyebrow. "Do you think Alexander knows?" 

"Would John tell Alexander something and not tell it to me?" Lafayette considered this for a moment. "Probably yes."

"What's going on?" Alexander's voice said from behind them. He walked up to the window and looked out. "Wait a second, is that John?'

"Yep."

"Who's the, um..." He gestured vaguely. "The blond girl?"

"Apparently, his girlfriend."

"I saw her pull up and I called him over -"

" _Oui,_ she did..." 

"And then..."

"Yeah."

Alexander raised an eyebrow. "Huh. Okay, that's news to me." He turned away; Lafayette fell in step beside him and grabbed his arm.

"Why would John not tell us he had a girlfriend?"

"He told me," said Eliza quietly. "Last night. His father picked her out." 

They all fell silent. Alexander closed the curtains - "give them privacy, at least" - and they filed quietly out of the room. 

 

John squeezed his eyes shut tight as Martha kept on kissing him.  _Stop it, please..._

Finally,  _finally_ she pulled back, though she kept her hands on his cheeks. He swallowed hard. "Hello, Martha." 

She looked exactly the same as ever - same big blue eyes, same long blond hair pulled back into a ponytail, streaked with red highlights. She still wore an insane amount of makeup, including bright pink lipstick. John really hoped that stuff was smudge-free. Her hands on his face were covered in rings, and her nails were still long, painted the same color as her lips.

"John! I missed you!" She gave him another quick peck on the lips and then pulled him into a crushing hug. 

"Sorry I didn't call," John mumbled. 

"Oh, it's okay, I know how busy you've been."

"...you do?" 

"Henry told me. Not to worry, darling." 

 _Darling._ By now, John had been called the exact same thing - albeit in French - at least a thousand times, by Lafayette. Same words. Same tone. So why did it leave an empty feeling in his chest when Martha spoke the endearment, where his soulmate's use of it left him flooded with warmth and light?

"So where are we going?" she asked eagerly, climbing in to the passenger seat. John got in on the driver side. 

 "Um." He cleared his throat. "I dunno, do you want to... catch a movie or something?" Movies were good because she couldn't talk and couldn't kiss or hug him. He'd figured that out very quickly. 

"Sure! Let's get lunch after, how about?" 

"Yeah. Yeah, let's do that." 

 

Martha reached over and slipped her hand into his as he drove, and he stiffened as her long-nailed fingers skimmed the quill pen. She couldn't hold that hand anymore, she _couldn't_. That hand belonged to Alexander now...

But she kept right on holding the hand, and John gritted his teeth as he drove. 

"So how are the guys?" she asked, and he jolted. 

"Um, you mean my... roommates?" he asked, unsure if it was wise to talk about his soulmates around her. Then again, she's brought them up.

"Yes! It's been soooo long since I've visited them."

"Wait, what?" 

"Anything new, by the way? Have you bought a new building?" 

"Well yes, but... hang on, are we talking about the same people?"

Martha giggled. "Of course! The guys at Phi Kappa Alpha, silly." 

 _She doesn't know about Alexander and Lafayette,_ he realized. Henry hadn't told her. She probably didn't even know that they were here with him - let alone that they were his soulmates.  _Which means she doesn't know about Eliza either. Or WHY I haven't been answering her messages..._

Martha continued to chatter. John winced. His father had set him up for a fall, one much steeper than the one off that cliff would have been. And knowing Henry Laurens, he couldn't wait to watch John crash and burn. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know nothing about what Martha Manning would have looked like, nor what to base her off of. In the end, I made something up. Sorry.


	19. The Senator Refuted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After John jilts Martha, Henry takes out his anger on his son's soulmates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My gift exchange is still open and will remain so for a month. Sign up before tomorrow for a shout-out. Why before tomorrow? Well, you'll see tomorrow. ;)

Martha squeezed her eyes shut tight as John pulled a small wrapped box out of his pocket. "I want to be surprised," she squealed. 

"Well, it's wrapped," said John, "so you can't open it unless you look at it."

They were sitting at a table outside one of Martha's favorite cafes, with sandwiches and coffee in front of them. John had spent three hundred dollars on this gift for her, and he'd gotten it five months ago when she sent him the catalog and Henry made a remark about it over email. It was a small necklace with a silver chain and five pearls in the center. John couldn't see the point in it, but he'd bought it with a sense of duty. Now she opened her eyes and they widened when she looked at the box. 

"Okay..." She shook her fists eagerly, rattling the bracelets dripping from her wrists. "Oh, I can't. You open yours first." 

She thrust a bag at him, and John pulled out a new tie and sweater, which did not match and honestly didn't seem to have anything to do with each other, except that both were made of expensive fabric and seemed to have been drowned in her perfume.

"Thanks." He forced a smile. "That was... really thoughtful." He coughed and set the tie and sweater back in the bag. "So um, are you going to open yours?"  _The sooner you do, the sooner we can get out of here._

"Okay, okay!" Her long nails tore through the tape on the back of the box, and she neatly flipped the paper out of it's folds and set it aside. She never tore presents open, even when she so clearly wanted to. It was frankly quite annoying, as it made her birthday and Christmas and every other occasion when he was required to give her a gift far longer than necessary. Martha glanced at John over the top of the little black box, gave a trembly smile, and flipped it open.

When she took in the little pearls and the silver chain, her smile faltered a little, then spread again. "Wow." She flashed the smile at him, though her brow creased. "It's so pretty. Thanks, John."

He could tell she wasn't satisfied. "But?" he asked. 

"But, um, when I saw the little box, I was kind of hoping..." Martha set the necklace aside suddenly and grabbed his wrists. "Oh John, when are we going to get married?" 

John flinched, from a combination of the words and the pressure of her fingers on his soulmarks, and she released him, drawing away. 

"You're almost done with your senior year," she said. "I have my associate's degree. You can't mean to live in New York City forever, right? I mean..." Her bright pink lips wavered between a smile and a frown. "John, isn't this what you want? To marry me?" 

John closed his eyes. 

He could imagine it already, as clearly as if it had already happened. A life with Martha. He could already see himself coming home after a long day of work, probably in his father's campaign or as a lawyer or something. Pulling up in a nice car in front of a nice house just down the road from his parents. He could see Martha waving at him as he walked in through the door. There would probably be kids running around - three or four, with green eyes and freckles and blonde ringlets exactly like hers. His parents would come to visit every weekend. He could already picture his father, clapping a hand on his shoulder and saying that he knew John would turn out alright in the end. Alexander and Lafayette would text him maybe once or twice a month or, at most, once a week. And Alexander would be a famous writer by then, touring the world and signing books with Lafayette at his side every step of the way. John would live in South Carolina still, maybe have a vacation house in the Caribbean or something. There would be everything he could ever ask for right at his fingertips. And he would hate it. 

John didn't want that for his life. He didn't want oriental rugs and grand pianos and a wife that he didn't love. He wanted his soulmates. Living in their apartment in New York. Waking up to cups of Lafayette's coffee and watching Alexander write his essay. Working hard to get by, maybe selling artwork online as well as whatever job he picked up. Coming home to people who he loved, fighting away Lafayette's  _la bise_ every single time he walked through the door and maybe, just every now and then, giving up and letting him do it, and not really minding at all. Staying up late sketching and going on the roof to watch the sun rise with them on either side of him. Getting by with just enough and having everything he needed. 

He loved the life he had now. He loved the past month and a half that he had spent with his soulmates. 

And he didn't want to trade that life for anything.  

Martha was still watching him, and he met her eyes.

"I know what I want," he said. "But it's not... it's not what you want." 

She laughed nervously. "What, you want to wait? Get married later? Oh..." She smiled and nodded quickly, like a bobble head. "You want to go to Law School, am I right? Of course, I'm so silly. You're in pre-law, of course you want the -"

"Martha." 

"Yes?"

John made his decision, and quietly pushed up his sleeves. Martha stared down at his wrists, then gulped and looked back up at him. 

"You found them?" she whispered. "But, but..."

John nodded. "Yeah." 

Martha stood up quickly, bumping against the table, then sank back into her chair. "So." She swallowed miserably. "What are they like? How long have you been dating? Oh, I should have known, I should have known. I bet one of them's really tall and beautiful, right? Isn't she?" 

"Well, yeah, one of them is, but it's a he." John sighed. "And I'm not dating them, but I love them. I really love them."

"One of them is a man?"

"Both." 

"Oh." Martha sank into her chair again, seeming confused, relieved, and concerned all at once. "So you're just friends. So you're still dating me. Okay, I was worried for a second."

"We're... a little closer than just friends," said John. In his experience, friends were people you forced a smile around, kept secrets from, and hung out with for pleasure - or in his case, to please your father. Friends weren't people you could pour your heart out to. He might not have a romantic relationship with either of his soulmates, but he did feel like they were more than friends at this point. He swallowed. "Martha, listen -" 

"NO!" She jumped up again; everyone else outside the cafe stood stared at them. She pointed a shaky finger at John. "Something is wrong," she stammered, and hiccuped. "You're not yourself." 

"I am myself."  _I finally am myself._

"We've been together for SIX YEARS!" she said hysterically. She was weeping, mascara running down her face. "You c-can't dump m-me for two g-guys from who knows w-where..." She blew her nose on one of the linen napkins. '

"I think we should take a break," said John gently. "You can look for your soulmate, and we can go forward just as friends. Okay?" 

"NO! NOT okay!" Martha pushed her chair back and ran off in tears, her high heels clicking on the pavement as she stumbled into her car. John watched as she sobbed for a moment in the driver's seat, before putting the key in and driving off at top speed. The pearl necklace was still on the table. John quietly gathered up his things, leaving the bag with the gift she had given him, though he did pocket the pearl necklace. He paid for the cafe bill, took out his phone, and requested an Uber. 

"Are you going to go after her?" asked an old man sitting at a nearby table as John leaned against the railing bordering the seating to wait. 

"I don't think so," said John quietly. "That would make things worse."

"Good for you." The man nodded approvingly. "Well, I think you've done a mighty brave thing, lad." 

John's ride arrived. He climbed in and gave his address.  

 

Henry Laurens was pacing the length of the living room.

He had been doing so for the past five minutes. Alexander and Lafayette sat on the couch watching him, eyes following him across the room. They were holding hands behind one of the decorative pillows, but if he had noticed, John's father didn't say anything. 

"Are you sure you need us in here, sir?" asked Alexander for the fourth time. 

"Yes, stay." Henry didn't deign to look at them.

Alexander met his soulmate's big brown eyes, which were even wider than usual. He squeezed the hand locked in his, trying to reassure the freshman. Lafayette's fingers were gripping Alexander's so tightly that the writer had a suspicion they would have to pry their hands apart with a crowbar. 

He had been wandering around the house with Eliza and Lafayette, just exploring, when John's father had appeared and summoned his son's soulmates to the living room, asking Eliza if she would mind chatting with Mrs. Laurens for a bit. She had gone to the kitchen, and now Alexander and Lafayette were here - though why their presence was required, neither of them yet understood. 

Alexander raised an eyebrow and glanced over at Lafayette, who still looked absolutely terrified. So far, Henry had not said anything to them that was unpleasant - in fact, he had hardly said anything at all. 

Just as this thought crossed his head, Henry suddenly turned towards them - the motion was careful and fluid, and yet still managed to be abrupt. Alexander felt Lafayette jump slightly. 

"Forgive me for detaining you here," he said. "I simply wished to make several inquiries of you."

"...okay?" Lafayette stammered

"Firstly." He cleared his throat. "Mister Hamilton. I have done a background check on both of you, and I discovered that you are the author of an ongoing series entitled The Moderate Papers, am I correct?"

"Yes."

"The purpose of which is to belittle the government and spout propaganda, telling people what they wish to hear in order to earn a decent salary?"

"What? No!" Alexander sputtered. "Actually, I -"

"Mister Hamilton, are you aware that I am a former senator and that I am seeking the office of Governor?"

"Wait -"

"Your views, while popular, are contradictory to my own. The government is _not_ taking an apathetic stance on immigration, for one. Immigrants are not, for the majority of the time, discriminated against."

"I'm an immigrant, sir."

" _Oui,_ we both are," said Lafayette defensively. 

Henry's gaze flicked over him. "Are you indeed," he mused. "Tell me, Lafayette, you hail from France, do you not?"

"Yes."

"Your parents sent you here for schooling?"

"My parents died, Monsieur."

"Ah, what a pity. My condolences. An illness?"

Lafayette looked up at him. " _Non_ , a car crash."

Henry's features flicked into what was almost a sneer. "I see. Well, the unfortunate fate of your parents aside. Mister Hamilton, your association with my son could have an affect on my career. I must ask, how popular are these papers?"

"Not extremely."

"May I ask that it remains that way? That you do not sell to any other, larger publisher?"

"I can't promise that."

"Of course, of course." Henry resumed his pacing. "Ah, by the way, how long have you known John for?"

"Since early November," said Lafayette. "We both met him on the same day, you see."

"Indeed? What a coincidence. Perhaps it was... fate." He stopped pacing and took a seat on an armchair opposite them. "I love my son very dearly, you see," he said. "I ask these questions only out of the deepest paternal affection." 

"I would have an easier time believing that, sir, if you had actions to support your claim," Alexander said quietly, matching Henry's tone and manner of speech.

"When John finishes his schooling, he will return here, of course," said Henry. 

"Will he?" asked Alexander. 

The statesman frowned. "Mister Hamilton -"

"How can you just assume that?" asked Alexander angrily, jumping to his feet. His fingers were ripped out of Lafayette's as he stood. "That he'll do anything you want him to?"

"Alexander," Lafayette whispered warningly, but Alexander kept going. 

"This is crazy. This is _wrong,_ Mr. Laurens. Giving him endless expectations to live up to, sneering at us and dragging us in here so you can make us squirm." He could feel his face burning with anger. "What do you want to achieve?" he snapped. "You want me to leave John alone or something?"

"Really, Hamilton -"

"Because it's not happening," Alexander spat. "I am not going to leave him or make him leave our apartment. You don't control him, and you certainly don't control either of us."

Henry Laurens stared at Alexander for a moment. Then he stood and seized Alexander by the shoulders.

Lafayette jumped up, but Henry already had Alexander in an iron grip and was speaking quickly, softly. 

"I seek what is best for my son, best for my career, and thus, by extent, best for this state," he hissed. "Clashing with me will end badly for you, as will anything I mark as defiance. You think yourself important, young Hamilton? You believe yourself special, because you have an essay published? Because you are one of the few with a mark on both wrists? Neither of these things sets you apart from others or in my favor. Your relationship with John is both improper and unhealthy, and I will not permit it unless you do exactly as I say." 

In spite of the anger in the man's eyes, the way he glared at him - face so close Alexander could feel his breath - the writer managed to lift an eyebrow, trying to seem unfazed. "Are you threatening to blackmail me, Mr. Laurens?" he asked with a slight smile. 

"Have I yet named any conditions, Mr. Hamilton?"

" _Alexander_ ," Lafayette said, sounding frantic. 

Alexander ignored him. "No, but you have heavily implied several."

"Oh?"

"You wish for me to stop living in the same apartment as my soulmate - as your son - and you wish for me to stop with my essay, or simply to stay away from both you and John, is that it?"

There was a gasp, and then - " _Non_! Never!"

They both turned to see Lafayette, face full of fury. 

"You cannot tell us what to do. You cannot tell John what he is to do," said the freshman angrily. "You may be a senator, but you are not in charge of any of us."

Henry released Alexander and started towards the French boy. "Ah, yes. Lafayette. I had a question for you."

They stared at each other for a moment, and then the door swung open. 

"What did I miss?" asked John from the doorway. All three turned to look at him. 

"Oh, _m_ _on cheri_. You're back." Lafayette shot a glance at Henry Laurens, then marched over to John, grabbed him by the shoulders, and kissed him on both cheeks.

Henry looked as though he were about to explode. 

Alexander lifted his eyebrows slightly, amused and horrified as he saw the expression on the senator's face.  _Nice going, Lafayette,_ he thought.

"Alexander," Lafayette called, one hand still on John's shoulder. "Come. I think Mr. Laurens is not wanting our time any more. Goodbye, Mr. Laurens." 

Alexander went to his side. and Lafayette steered his soulmates out of the room, closing the door behind them. Then he turned to face both of them and planted his hands on his hips. 

"I think the three of us need to have a talk," he said. 

 


	20. Vive L'amour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth of the trio's pasts come out in a heart-to-heart-to-heart conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I have an announcement, and I'm afraid you aren't going to like it very much. As many of you may know, I am the self-published author of a YA series and the co-writer of another. Additionally, I want to write a series somewhere far down the road (like ten years) on the American and French revolutions that's told from Lafayette's point of view, and I've decided to start research for that at 15, like teaching myself French and reading bios on the Marquis. All of those projects are at a standstill because I devote much of my time to this story. So while I'm not ending the fic, I've decided to take a one-month hiatus from it and come back in March. I'll still be on here to read comments and moderate sign-ups for my Broadway gift exchange (still open, by the way! Please sign up!) but no new chapters of "Destiny Put Us All in One Spot" will come out in February. But don't worry, the story is still ongoing; this is not Sherlock and I will not be gone for three years. Just one month. So I hope you'll enjoy this chapter, maybe reread the others, and follow Alexander's advice from Chapter Eighteen: "Wait for me."

Lafayette closed the door to his room and stood there for a moment, his hands still on the door, his back to them. Finally he turned around. 

"John?"

John sat on the chair in the corner, twisting the fabric of the throw blanket around in his fingers. He stared at his feet. 

"Something is obviously not..." Lafayette swallowed. "Not okay."

Alexander sat on the bed and watched John. Their soulmate stayed by the door, also staring at the artist. 

"I think you need to tell us what's been going on," he finished, try to seem reassuring.  

John looked away, towards the window to his left. Lafayette's encouraging smile faded, and he walked over to John and knelt down next to him. He cupped John's chin in his hand and lifted his head.  

" _Mon trésor,_ I just want to help you. We both want to help you. We know that you are not okay, and we want to fix that." He looked over at Alexander, who came over and stood behind Lafayette, hand on his shoulder, also looking at John. 

"He's right," Alexander said quietly. 

John inhaled deeply and let the breath out, very slowly. "I really don't want you guys to be worried about me."

Alexander couldn't hold back a smile. "Oh, John..." He shook his head. "John. You wonderful, beloved idiot, listen to me. If you think we aren't already worried, you are sadly mistaken." 

"Something is making you unhappy," said Lafayette urgently, taking John's face in his hands. "And you _must_  tell us what it is. You are not okay. Your father is making you very, very sad, and it's not healthy. You know that." He brushed back a wisp of John's hair with his thumb. "We're only asking you all this because we love you so much," he whispered. "You know that, don't you?"

John nodded. "I know..."

"We don't care what's happened in your past," said Alexander. "How dark it is, or whatever. We just need you to tell us. Okay?" 

Their soulmate lifted his head, then buried it in his hands. "I don't want to bother you though, to burden you."

"How could you possibly burden us,  _mon cheri?"_

"Because you're right, I'm not okay," John choked out, his face still buried in his hands. "I - I have depression." 

Lafayette stared at John, then his head snapped towards Alexander, his eyes wide.

"In fact, I've had depression for a really long time." John lifted his head; there was a tear running down his face. "And I didn't want you to think... that something was wrong with me. Even though it is." He gulped. "I mean - look at you. Both of you. You're both so... perfect." He ducked his head again. "Alexander's a genius, and Lafayette's like a gift from God straight to the world." He laughed bitterly. "And I'm just... me. All messed up and emotional." He squeezed his eyes shut tight and was silent for a long time. "My father," he gulped finally. "He hates me. He told me a few times that he wishes I'd never been born. My mom said he was just joking, but I don't think he was. Everything bad that's ever happened to our family... is my fault. He thinks I just say I have depression for attention, even though I have an official diagnosis. And..."

Suddenly he was in their arms.

"My brother," he whispered into Alexander's shirt, clutching fistfuls of the fabric in his hands, looking for something to hold on to. "My brother died. My father blames me." 

"Why in the world would be blame you,  _cheri?_ " Lafayette wept, stroking John's hair softly. 

"Because I was there. And I lived and he didn't. He was climbing around on the side of the house, and I was right there. And he fell, and..." John gestured vaguely. "And he didn't make it," he whispered. "So it was my fault."

"That doesn't sound like it was your fault," said Alexander. 

"But it was. It really was." John leaned into his soulmates. "I should have caught him, I should have..." 

He clung to them and spilled his whole story, like a jar of secrets locked inside him, the lid of which had finally been pried off and the contents laid out for all to see. Alexander and Lafayette listened as John told them about his childhood, his father setting high expectations for him since he was a toddler. How if he didn't live up to those, if he didn't do whatever Henry Laurens told him, there would be threats and sneers and cold shoulders.

"He told me he wouldn't love me anymore if I wasn't a good kid," said John. "When I was six years old, when the thing I wanted most in the world was his approval. He told me I would mean nothing to him." 

As years passed, it seemed that Henry got worse, especially after John's brother died. When John tried to defend himself, to fight back, the verbal abuse took another direction. 

"He hit me, once." John rested his head against Alexander's shoulder and closed his eyes. "He hit me really hard. And he told me if I tried to call anyone, a child abuse help line or anything, he would turn me over to the cops and tell them I killed my brother."

"But you didn't," Lafayette said. He was sobbing and clutching John tightly, as if he were the one breaking, in need of something to hold on to.

"I know. I know that now, but then I thought... I thought I had. He made me think it was my fault." John swallowed. "And then I got the marks."

John's marks hadn't appeared until he was fourteen - which, even for a boy, was late. He'd been doing homework at the kitchen table when pain flashed across his wrists, and his father had ran over. Henry had at first seemed pleased, as for a while, they'd thought John would be one of the people never to receive a mark. He had seen the quill pen on John's right wrist, where men usually received their mark, and smiled, but then when he saw the diamond, a dark cloud covered his face, and he thrust John's hand away. 

"He thought it was another thing to set me apart. Another reason why I would never satisfy him. He even tried to reason that the diamond might have been a mistake." John reached up and rested his hand on Lafayette's cheek as he spoke those words. "Obviously, he was wrong. He was always wrong.

"So he had me start going out with Martha. She's not a bad person, really. She's shallow and oblivious, but she means well and she really did like me. A lot. I felt terrible. Like there was something wrong with me because I couldn't love her. There were times when I thought maybe I could, but then she'd show her negative side and I'd break all over again. 

"So here I am. I'm broken. I'm a wreck." He swallowed hard. "You shouldn't want me anymore, so if you decide you want to leave... I get it. I'll understand." 

"Stop it," said Alexander. 

"You should go home and forget me," John pressed. "It's better for -"

" **Stop it!** " Alexander half-shouted, and John fell silent. "If you think nothing bad's ever happened to me, you're completely wrong," said Alexander. "Listen to me. You're not the only person in this room who's come from a dark place, John. You are not going to stay here and we are not going to leave you. I need you, don't you get it!" Hot tears stung in his eyes. "I lived for twenty years without getting the chance to really love anyone, before they were taken from me. My friends and family died and my cousin went to jail, so you think my life was perfect? Watching my cousin choose money over me and leave me in foster care with people who didn't want me or need me or care whether I lived or died?"

"I wasn't -" John began, but Alexander cut him off again. 

"Because it was hell, John! And now you think that you get to tell me how I feel about you, just because some idiot who happened to be your father told you you didn't matter?" He was crying, and he didn't try to stop. "Forget it. I'm not ditching you because of the value someone I don't care about put on your life. What matters is the value we put on it." Alexander looked over at Lafayette, who was still crying also. "And to us..." He tilted John's face in his hand, forcing his soulmate to look at him. "To us, your life is worth more than our own. More than anything." He laughed a little. "Leave you?" He whispered. "I wouldn't last five minutes without you, John." 

His rant ended, Alexander just held both of his soulmates closer. The three of them clung to each other in a heap on the floor, unwilling and unable to let go. Instead they all stayed there, holding each other, letting years fall away and memories fade into nothing. Then Alexander drew a shaky breath.

"All my life," he whispered, "since they took my cousin to jail, I've tried to protect myself from trusting people again. I built up a fortress around myself and guarded my heart from anyone. From everyone." He pulled back a little and took their hands; John's in his left, Lafayette's in his right. "Then I met you two," he said. "And I didn't just give my heart to you, you took it and you claimed it before I even had the chance to say a word. You found me and you kept me from destroying myself with bitterness and anger. You saved me. And I let you, because..." He closed his eyes, searching for words. When he found them, his eyes opened again and locked onto his soulmates' - first onto John's, sea-green and rimmed with freckles, and then onto Lafayette's, dark brown, shining with tears. "You two, both of you... You were my sweetest surrender," he said. "You were my most beautiful downfall."

He felt empty, but empty of all the bad things that had tormented him for years. No longer was there any anger or sorrow or hatred towards his circumstances. Instead, all the dark, bitter parts of him were washed clean as his senses and mind overloaded with the kind of joy he hadn't known since... maybe never. Just to be there, kneeling on the floor in front of the two people he loved most in all the world, was enough and more than enough, more than he ever deserved. It was perfect, and it was beautiful. 

And then John smiled, and his heart broke. 

"Okay," John said. "Pack. We're leaving this useless place."

"I was hoping you'd say that," said Lafayette, jumping to his feet. Then he sat back down and grabbed both of their hands again. "Wait. First I have to say thank you, too." He smiled more broadly. "Though honestly I can't think of anything to say, at least anything in English that would express..." He laughed. "There aren't enough words in your language, so I'm going to use mine.  _Je t'aimerais pour l’éternité."_

Alexander smiled and kissed the top of his head. "You too." He glanced over at John. "Do you need a translation?"

John shook his head. "I think I know what it means, somehow."

Alexander arched an eyebrow. "So, how are we going to convince Eliza to leave?"

" _Oui_ , and where are we going?"

"Dunno. We'll figure it out. Oh, and let's tell my father. I want to see the look on his face and not care anymore." John held out his hands. "Together?"

"Together," his soulmates confirmed. 

Then Alexander froze suddenly. 

"What? What is it?" Lafayette asked, concerned.

"I just remembered," he said. "I think I left the coffee machine on in New York." 

His soulmates groaned. 

"We choose to spend a life with him, this is what we get," Lafayette said to John, over the top of Alexander's head. 

John shrugged. "Eh, I kind of think it's worth it." 

And they started out the door to go find Eliza. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note about all the Henry Laurens stuff:  
> I am basing everything in Henry's character off stuff that I read on him. One of the best bloggers ever and the only tumblr blog I read, john-laurens, is the unofficial biographer of everything in John's life. She has lots of posts, with sources, about the way Henry treated John. Threatening to stop loving him or turn him out, setting high expectations, and treating him like he was unimportant were all things that really happened. My only liberty was the one time Henry hit John. Unlike Martha, Henry's character has a lot of stuff to go on and be hated for. 
> 
> Translations for this chapter:
> 
> Vive l'amour: Long live love/may love live long
> 
> Mon trésor: My treasure. 
> 
> Cheri: Sweetheart/Dearest
> 
> Je t'aimerais pour l’éternité: I will love you for eternity


	21. Back to New York

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio successfully run away and start the trip home... with a few unforeseen complications along the way, not helped by Alexander Human Disaster Hamilton.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK! It's SO great to be back, my hiatus finally over! Well I hope y'all had a lousy time while I was gone, because you are never getting rid of me again. ;p I missed this fic WAY too much! A couple of things that happened while I was away: 
> 
> The Flying Fish as Large as Life was discovered (you go John Laurens)  
> My essay was featured on International Fanworks Day  
> My cousin Luveverlark and I finished our first draft  
> Lin did not get an Oscar  
> My gift exchange assignments went out!
> 
> I wanted to watch the sun rise this morning in honor of this fic, but sadly my window faces west. Oh well. And my roof is sloped, sooo...  
> Anyway March is a crazy busy month - I have Mock Trial tonight so I'm writing the chapter now - and so I probably will not be updating or replying to comments with as much frequency as I used to. But at least I can write again and it's like happy birthday to me because I'm back (and also to ImmaDoAThing for real.) So without further ado, let's jump back into the fic, shall we???

The house suddenly seemed ten times more silent. 

Every noise, every step was heightened, amplified - and Alexander winced at every creaking floorboard. 

He could hear John's breath behind him as they walked, all trying to be absolutely silent and failing somewhat, especially since Lafayette started giggling every time a board creaked. 

"Are we really doing this?" Eliza hissed behind them. Alexander shushed her, and Lafayette as he laughed again, quietly. 

"We could just tell my dad we're leaving..." John suggested in a whisper. 

Alexander shook his head and peeked around the corner. "Bad, bad idea."

They had found Eliza and told her their plan to leave. To nobody's surprise, she had been fully on board, saying she hadn't felt entirely comfortable here anyway. Then rather than going and flaunting their defiance in Henry's face, the four decided it would be wiser - and more amusing - to sneak out and get as far away as possible without their absence being noted. A fun plan and a good one, but harder in execution than it had been in planning.

Alexander dragged his suitcase behind him. The wheels squeaked whenever they got to a certain point on their rotation, and he groaned softly before picking the case up. He almost tripped and fell that way, but at least it made less noise. 

John flattened himself against a wall as the sound of high-heels came in the nearby hall; his soulmates and Eliza followed suit. The footsteps faded, and John peeked out. 

"That was my mom," he whispered. "Okay, here's the plan. Once we get to the foyer, Eliza, you run ahead and open the door. Push it all the way and it should stay open. Then you start the car and we'll join you after a few seconds."

"Alright," Eliza replied. 

John glanced around to confirm the coast was clear, then waved them forward. They ducked out of the hallway and down the staircase, tiptoeing inch by inch. When they reached the bottom, Eliza handed her suitcase to Lafayette and ran out. Suddenly she tripped over the corner of a rug and fell to the ground with a loud  _slam_.

"JOHN!!" roared Henry's voice from the next room. 

Eliza jumped up, frazzled and frantic. John grabbed the handles of his suitcase and hers and shouted, "go, go, GO!"

They sprinted forward - Eliza crossed the rest of the way to the door and yanked it open. The trio flew out, and Alexander glancing over his shoulder saw that Henry Laurens had come into the foyer and was right behind them. "Stay where you are!" 

"Come on, run!" John shouted as they all leapt down the front steps. 

"John Laurens!" Henry yelled from behind them, quickly marching down the front steps after them. "Young man, you stay where you are or -"

John reached the trunk and threw it open. Eliza had jumped into the front seat and started the ignition; the three soulmates tossed their cases in and then scrambled for the doors. Alexander could feel wild adrenaline pumping through him, increasing as Henry got closer.

He pulled open the door to the passenger side and got in, slamming it shut behind him. John and Lafayette tumbled into the back seat, and Eliza pounded her foot down onto the gas.

"SO LONG, DAD!" John shouted out the open window. Alexander looked back and had a brief glimpse of Henry's furious face, before he was lost in the rearview mirror.

John threw his head back and laughed. He got up, pushed back his hair, and leaned against the seat, unable to stop.

 _I have successfully run away with Alexander Hamilton and Lafayette._  

And Eliza, of course. 

He clipped on his seatbelt and slid back, into the seat, still laughing in a way he hadn't since the day on the roof in New York City. Lafayette hugged him and he hugged back. It felt good to be free.

 

It was snowing in Virginia. 

Eliza had the windshield wipers going, but they didn't seem to be helping much. It was already late evening, and Alexander knew that now, with a snow delay, they were never going to make it to NYC before early morning tomorrow.

"Well, this is great." Alexander flipped off the radio and let out an exasperated sigh. "I hate Virginia."

"Have you ever even been to Virginia?" asked Eliza.

"Yeah. We drove through it yesterday."

John shook his head. "You're impossible." 

"And that is why you love me." 

John rolled his eyes and settled back into his seat to where he and Lafayette had been falling asleep. 

Alexander smirked. After a few minutes, during which the snow did not lighten up in the least, he tapped on the glass of the window.

"Why is it even snowing here?" he asked. "Isn't Virginia supposed to be warm?"

"If it's this bad here, imagine what it's like in New York," Eliza countered. 

"Good point." Alexander sighed and pushed on the lever to lean his seat back. "Maybe the snow will put out the fire that's probably happened from the coffee machine."

"You are crushing my legs,  _mon cheri,_ " mumbled Lafayette from behind him.

Alexander leaned his seat forward again and continued drumming on the window sill. 

"Alexander, please stop fidgeting," yawned Eliza. "You're giving me anxiety." 

"Sorry. This is just annoying." 

She handed him her phone. "Here, check the weather and traffic conditions, will you? Let's see how far we can get."

Alexander flipped the phone on and turned to her, surprised. "Hey, did you know it's 10:30 at night?" 

"Yes, Alexander. There's a clock in the dashboard."

He scrolled through the apps. "Yeah, at best we'll be in New York at this time tomorrow." The fact that is was the day before Christmas Eve was not helpful to traffic. 

"Really? That bad?" asked Eliza. "Huh. Well, guess who's not driving that long!" She pulled over suddenly, and Alexander noticed she had turned in to a hotel parking lot. 

"Ugh, no."

"Ugh, yes," said Eliza, and she took out the key. "This girl is tired."

Alexander glanced into the backseat, where both of his soulmates were slumped against each other. "I think they're asleep, though."

"Then you get to wake them," said Eliza, climbing out of the front seat. "Come on, or I'll just fall asleep on the pavement."

They got the other two awake and started into the hotel. The night shift at the front desk had apparently just begun, as a young woman was there and evidently not yet high on coffee. They rented a room and dragged their suitcases down the hall. Although it was only ten thirty, Alexander felt like he'd been awake for years. Was it really only this morning that he'd been in South Carolina, watching the sun rise with John? Was it really only yesterday that they had left New York City? It all felt like ages ago...

He fell asleep as soon as his head hit a pillow. 

 

The snow kept falling and falling and falling. 

When they woke up, the windows of their first-floor room were rimmed with white. All roads they could take had been closed. They were stuck in Virginia. 

Alexander worked on his essay. John and Eliza bundled up and walked into town to buy bottled water. Lafayette curled up against Alexander while he wrote and took a nap. The day passed slowly and lazily and then ended. The snowstorm continued on through the night, but finally stopped while all four were sleeping.

Christmas morning was still snowy, but warmer, so some of the previous snow had melted. The sunrise through the windows was outlined by drifting flakes of white. Beautiful, and different from New York and South Carolina. The trio watched it while Eliza slept.

"I would like to collect sunrises and store them in jars," said Lafayette to Alexander's right. "Then we could keep them all on a shelf in our apartment."

"If Alexander hasn't burned our apartment to the ground by leaving the coffee machine on," John commented. 

"Really, John?"

"Well, if it is still there," Lafayette interrupted, "We should collect sunrises. You can paint them, John, yes?" 

John shrugged and laid his head on Alexander's shoulder. Lafayette claimed the other. 

"It's nice though, isn't?" said Alexander softly, watching as the snowflakes briefly glowed the colors of the sky, reflecting the world above on their white canvas. They drifted through the air, backlit by orange, looking for all the world like glowing embers falling from a heavenly fire. "It's different than at home."

Neither soulmate answered. They had both fallen back asleep. 

 


	22. Silent Motions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The soulmates return home. Alexander and Laf have a surprise for John. Unknowingly, John has a surprise for one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler alert: the apartment survives.

They finally got back into New York around 6:30 on December 26th. 

After the snowstorm finally ended and the roads up north re-opened, they wasted no time in getting out the door. Alexander and John switched off driving the rest of the way, until finally after what felt like an eternity, they made it across the state border from Jersey. 

They dropped off Eliza at her house after she said goodbye and thanked them for an unplanned but interesting outcome to their trip. After she was safely inside, they started the drive back to their apartment.

"Alexander," said Lafayette suddenly.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think you should call about the thing?"

Alexander's eyes widened. "Oh, right!" He scrambled for his phone and flipped it on.

"What's going on?" John asked, looking over from the wheel.

"He is calling about a thing."

"Everyone quiet," said Alexander as the phone rang. "Hello? Yes, this is. Yes. Can you..." He glanced over at John. "Can you be there like we talked about?"

John raised an eyebrow. "Who's he talking to?"

Alexander held up a finger to shush him. "Yeah. I will. Okay, great, thanks." He hung up and put his phone away. 

"Should I pull over for something?" asked John. 

"No. Keep going for now."

John shrugged but kept driving. 

They reached their apartment a few minutes later, and were relieved to see that it was still standing and had not burned to the ground. Inside they found out that the coffee machine was on but unplugged. Alexander looked over at John, who was starting to take his coat off.

"Keep that on."

John paused. "Why?"

"You're going back out."

Lafayette returned from where he had gone to another room and handed an envelope to John. There was an address scrawled across a post-it note stuck to it. "Go to this address, find the man in the red truck, and tell him you are John Laurens."

"Huh?"

"Just do it," said Alexander. "Trust me."

"What's at the address?"

"Your christmas present."

"You both already gave me one."

"We're giving you another. Go, please?"

Extremely confused, John slipped his coat back on and went out the door. Lafayette laughed and Alexander smiled as soon as the door shut.  _I hope he comes back quickly,_ Alexander thought. He wanted to see John's reaction to this as soon as possible.

 

The man in the red truck climbed out as soon as he saw John and approached him. "You him?" he asked through a thick accent.

"Um, I'm John Laurens. My soulmates told me to come here...?"

The man nodded and took the envelope John handed him. He opened it and flicked through several twenty dollar bills inside, counting. John was even more confused now than he had been a few minutes ago. 

_What in the world is going on here?_

"Right," said the man. "He's in the back."

He? John followed to the back of the truck, where the other man pulled off a sheet from a large object. 

And John stopped breathing.

 

The door burst open, and John came in sideways. Alexander and Lafayette both jumped up from the couch to see if he needed help, but he set the cage down on the floor easily. Then he looked up at them.

"You bought me a turtle on Craigslist?"

"We bought you a turtle on Craigslist."

John looked down at the turtle, chomping away at some lettuce in it's cage. He seemed overwhelmed with emotion. "You two," he choked out, "Are the best soulmates in the entire world."

"Oh, John, please don't cry," said Alexander, stepping forward. "John, come on, it's just a turtle. Come here." 

John threw his arms around Alexander's neck and hugged him tight. Lafayette joined them and hugged them both as well.

"I love it so much," John exclaimed into Alexander's shoulder. "I love _you_ so much. Thank you."

He let go and turned around, taking the turtle out of the cage. 

"What are you going to name it?" asked Lafayette.

"Does the turtle need a name?"

"Shush, Alexander."

"Um, I think I'm going to name him Frances," said John from the floor, where he was watching the turtle crawl around. "It looks like a Frances to me."

Alexander and Lafayette stared at him.

"John," said the writer. "For the foreseeable future, you are going to have one turtle. You can only give this turtle one name. Of all the turtle names in the world, you picked  _Frances_?"

"The first turtle I drew was named Frances."

"Huh."

"It died."

"That's a crying shame."

John swatted him, then scooped up the turtle. "Let's go somewhere we're appreciated, Frances."

Alexander rolled his eyes. "You did not just talk to that turtle."

"You're an idiot, Alexander." John glared at him, then leaned over and kissed his cheek. "But thank you."

Alexander stammered something illegible.

"THAT WAS SO CUTE!" Lafayette screamed. 

"Thank you, too." John kissed his cheek as well and retreated with the turtle into his bedroom. 

Alexander looked over at his other soulmate. "You are a  _terrible_ influence on us, you realize that?"

"You've done it too."

"Because of you."

Lafayette, still grinning, picked up the turtle cage and followed John to go get a home set up for Frances. "I know! That's why I'm good for you. Because I'm a terrible influence."

Alexander shook his head. 

_I guess I can't argue with that._

 

The essay was fully published. The trip to South Carolina was over. The turtle was situated in John's room. And yet, Alexander still felt like there was something he was supposed to do. 

He didn't keep a list of everything that he needed to do - otherwise he'd spend so much time writing it that he would never get anything done. But he did try to set alarms in his head, reminding him of his basic responsibilities, and his more important ones. 

He'd released his words into the world through the  _Daily._ He'd gone to South Carolina, refuted Henry Laurens, and gotten his soulmate onto the path out of depression. He'd finished all his homework that was due after break ended. 

So why did he still feel like something was missing?

"ALEXANDER!" Lafayette shouted in French, from the living room. "It's your week to buy groceries."

That was why.

Alexander sighed and ran a hand through his hair.  _No, no..._

He hated going to the store. It only drove more frustration into him, seeing how corrupt everything was. That a bag of coffee grounds could cost  _seven-fifty,_ and that without tax...

"Alexander!" This time the voice was closer. Lafayette slammed open the door to Alexander's room. "Alexander, if you want to eat tonight, you need to get your sorry rear out of this bedroom and down to the store."

"Nooo." Alexander pulled out his laptop. "I have work to do." 

"You have twitter feeds to track down and complain at. I know you."

"Lafayette, amazing, wonderful person that you are, can you please somehow find it in the never ending goodness of your beautiful heart to buy groceries instead of me?"

"Nice try. Off you go."

Alexander groaned. Lafayette dropped his coat onto the desk, took the laptop, and walked away. Alexander yanked his coat on and shoved shoes onto his feet. 

"What do we need?" he asked as he tromped through the living room, where John was on the floor sketching Frances.

"Milk, cereal, coffee, lettuce, ri-"

"Give me a list, please."

"Here." Lafayette shoved a list into his hand. "If you dare spend more than ten dollars on coffee, don't even bother coming home."

"Can I take John's car?"

"John's car is off-limits," said John from the floor, "and you are more than capable of walking a half mile."

"With grocery bags?" 

"Fine." He gestured towards the keys hanging on a nail by the door and then resumed his drawing. 

"And don't let that turtle make a mess on the floor." 

"He's on a sheet." 

"Just go, please?" Lafayette shoved Alexander out of the door and slammed it shut behind him. He turned around and walked back into the living room. John glanced up from his drawing.

"If he crashes my car, I'm going to kill him."

"Something tells me you will forgive him very easily." 

"Maybe." John prodded a piece of lettuce towards Frances and kept sketching. The turtle barely moved and seemed almost to be smiling, making him a good subject for drawing. John gently picked him up and turned him the other direction to get a better view of the shell pattern.  _He really is a cute turtle._ Sometimes John really loved his soulmates. Well, all the time. Every time he saw them.

Lafayette sat down on the couch, behind the sheet where Frances was crawling. They were both silent for a long time while they watched the turtle. 

"You are really good at that, John," said Lafayette after a while. 

"Thanks." 

"Have you ever drawn Alexander or me?" 

John set down the sketchbook. "Yeah, once or twice. I tore them out of the book, just in case I misplace it. Want to see?" 

Lafayette nodded. John tucked his sketchbook under his arm and picked up Frances, then started towards his room with Lafayette in tow. 

His room was probably the cleanest in the apartment. He hadn't seen the state of Alexander's and frankly did not want to. But his was fairly neat. The turtle cage in the corner. The bed in the middle of the back wall. This apartment was small, but in the fraternity he had been practically living in a closet. Now at least he didn't have to store his clothes in a container under the bed. 

His sketches were everywhere - in piles on the desk, across the top of the cage, some unfinished and taped to the wall since he didn't have an easel. Most were just charcoal drawings, though he had experimented with paints a couple of times. And yet he kept the enormous load of sketches organized neatly, not haphazard. Even though there were quite a lot. 

The ones on the cage were mostly of Frances. He also had a couple here and there of random plants or animals he'd seen online. The rest were all of his soulmates. 

Lafayette came into the room and looked around. John crossed to the cage, opened it to put Frances in. 

"I have a couple of you on the desk," he said, pointing. "The ones of Alexander are probably next to that. Check in the top drawer."

Lafayette pulled this open, John resumed fiddling with the latch of the cage. Finally he got it open and set Frances inside. He smiled at the turtle, ran a finger along his shell, and then moved a piece of lettuce closer so that Frances wouldn't have to walk as far to get to it. Poor turtle with his short legs. 

"John," said Lafayette from behind him. 

"Hmm?" John straightened up and walked over, looking over his shoulder. 

Lafayette was holding one of his sketches of Alexander. He was sitting at his desk writing, starting intently at the screen as if coaxing the secrets of the world from it. His fingers were frozen in motion, and John was proud to say that he felt he had captured the quality he wanted. He'd drawn Alexander's sleeves pushed back, to show both soulmarks. Somehow, the sketch seemed better that way. He smiled.

"Yeah, I really like how that one came out." He picked up another piece of paper and handed it to Lafayette. "This one, too."

It was of Lafayette - very quick, very simple, from the shoulders up. His eyes were closed, head tilted slightly to the side with that beautiful smile brushed across his face. John had seen him in that pose too many times to count and decided at last to capture it on paper. To freeze it in time, so to speak. He had drawn his soulmate's hair half up, a few curls framing his face. This was one of his other favorite sketches. 

Lafayette looked at it for a moment, then turned towards John. "You were drawing this... from memory?"

"Yeah."

"John, these are..." He looked back down at the paper in his hands. "These are so amazing,  _mon trésor._ They are beautiful." He looked up and met John's eyes again. "You have such a talent. You truly do. These, they almost look... almost like I am alive on the paper. It looks like I'm breathing. And the one of Alexander." He shifted the papers to expose that one again, and stared at it fondly for a while.

"There's this one too," said John, fishing out the one he had done on the first night they moved in. "He was sitting next to me when I drew it. Oh, and there was this one, on the day I met you." He pulled out a paper from under the stack. "I didn't mean to have you holding hands. It just turned out that way."

Lafayette smiled when he saw these, but his gaze lingered on the first one. His fingertips traced across Alexander's face, along the lines of his hands and across the small quill-shaped mark on his wrist.

"This one's my favorite," he decided. "Can I take it and photocopy it?"

"Go ahead." 

"It's really beautiful, John." 

"Alexander is?"

"Well yes, but I meant the sketch."

"Oh. Thanks."

"No, I mean, these are so wonderful. You should be selling your artwork."

He shrugged. "Eh, I dunno. I don't think people would buy them."

"Think about it," Lafayette pressed. "Promise? For me?"

John smiled and looked over at him. "Okay," he said. "For you." 

_I would do anything for you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record: I did NOT write that bit with the kisses on cheeks and whatnot. The ghosts of the trio are trolling me. They wrote that in there for themselves. They keep doing things like that without my permission. I LOVE IT SO MUCH! Hopefully you did too.


	23. John's Announcement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following his split with his father, John makes a decision and announces it to his soulmates.

_First thing, we make you feel better_

_Next stop, we pull it all together_  

"JOHN!" Alexander shouted. "I'M DOING HOMEWORK. PLEASE TURN THE MUSIC DOWN."

"I'M TRYING TO SUMMON YOU TO DINNER," his soulmate shouted back. 

Alexander groaned. If someone gave him the choice to never eat or sleep, he would probably take it. He could get so much more done that way. And he certainly had a lot of homework to do. 

And the song just kept playing. And playing.

"THIS ISN'T GOING TO WORK," Alexander shouted. 

"THE MUSIC STAYS ON UNTIL YOU COME OUT HERE."

Alexander surveyed the homework before him. He was sort of hungry, but at the same time, he had a  _lot_ of homework. Working on his essay so much had put him just a little bit behind - not too far behind, only from about a 4.0 to a 3.9 kind of behind, but he still wanted to breach that gap by the time break was over. Which would be in three days. 

...and he had forgotten to register for classes again. Shoot. 

Were the stomping noises supposed to be part of the song? He wouldn't put it past modern music, but somehow he didn't think that was the case. 

"JOHN, IF YOU AND LAFAYETTE ARE DANCING OUT THERE YOU'RE IN BIG TROUBLE." 

"Why, because you feel left out?" called Lafayette. 

If glass objects broke and they got evicted because of his soulmates...

_I'm here and I won't leave you now, Don't look down_

Alexander shut the laptop and covered his ears, trying to tune out the music. Either the song repeated the chorus twenty million times or they had it on repeat and were still dancing, which was honestly kind of cute...

He sighed and pushed back his chair. Fine. He couldn't pretend to be annoyed any longer. 

He left his homework on the desk, flicked out the light, and opened the door to his bedroom. Sure enough, his soulmates were twirling around the living room together. The rug was already all tangled up under their feet and all the furniture had been pushed back. Alexander rolled his eyes.

"For goodness sake," he muttered, "you are  _19 and 22_. You aren't twelve year old girls at a slumber party."

"You're just jealous," said Lafayette. "Come here and John can teach you."

"No thanks." He flicked off the song on John's phone. "You said there was dinner."

"Maybe I lied."

"Did you lure me out here under false pretenses, John Laurens?"

"I might have." John wrapped his arms around Alexander's neck. "It's actually your night to cook, you know."

"Oh." Alexander gulped. "Um, sorry..."

He laughed and released Alexander. "Laf did it for you."

"You're welcome," said the Freshman.

"Thank you."

"So I actually have an announcement," said John as they filed into the kitchen. 

"Yeah?"

"It's going to take a while to explain."

"Go ahead." Lafayette handed John his plate and sat down. 

John twirled a fork around in circles. "So remember a while back I told you I make one g a month?"

"Yeah. Seems low."

"It is, because I make more."

Alexander hesitated. "Okay?"

"See, I had this system with my dad, that he made." John frowned at the memory of his father. "He paid my tuition and living expenses. In return for that I had to pay for my frat expenses. So all the work I did was for that. And to save, obviously, for the future he planned for me.

"Only I don't live in the frat anymore. So I pulled the six thousand dollars I would have been spending on that. I hadn't told you about my dad at that point so I made something up. I... lied to you." He stared at the floor, not meeting their eyes. "I would have told you the truth sooner, except I had to figure things out. See, after we left South Carolina I got a text from him. He told me that I wasn't allowed to reply and that I was no longer to contact him because... um." He laughed awkwardly. "Because he figured we were... yeah." 

"Oh." Alexander felt his face burning. 

"OH." Lafayette buried his face in his hands. "Oh my gosh, your dad..."

"Um." John swallowed. "So I didn't reply. I'm not really sure what I would have said anyway. But the message basically told me that he won't pay for my upcoming semester, or anything else. So while I can actually keep all my money now, it's... not as much as I need to finish my degree."

He drew a deep breath.

"So I won't be finishing my degree."

Alexander started to say something, but John cut him off.

"I dropped out," he said. "I already finalized it with admissions and everything. I won't be going back to King's next semester, so hopefully I can get a full time job instead."

"John, you can't do that," said Alexander. "You're so close to finishing. You can't just quit now!"

John met his eyes and smiled. "Maybe," he said. "But I'd have to spend all my money on that. And I hope you don't get offended by this, but neither of you works. I'm the only one with a steady income. I lose that and we're out on the streets."

"But -"

"Your essay is  _over,_ Alexander," said John patiently. "Laf's money from his parents will run out eventually."

"I could spend the rest of it on your semester," Lafayette suggested.

"I already hacked your bank account. I know that you don't have much left."

The Freshman frowned. "Well, yes," he said finally. "I don't get the rest of it for a while. Until I finish school or my grandmother dies. It is some legal thing, how they set it up."

"Yeah," said John. 

"So I get a job," Alexander suggested. "You can take out a loan, go into debt -"

"Forget it, Alexander!" John laughed. "You're great, trying to help me. You really are. But listen, I hated pre-law anyway. I want us to stay here and have a decent life rather than subsisting on ramen or whatever until we get back on our feet." He smiled. "Look," he said. "It comes down to whether or not you two are more important to me than some stupid degree I'll never use. And honestly, that's one of the easiest questions I've had to ask in a long time." 

Alexander and Lafayette watched him for a moment. John smiled and kept eating, seeming satisfied.

"You really love us, don't you?" Alexander whispered. 

John winked. "Another easy question." 

"So what happens now?" asked Lafayette.

"We get jobs," said Alexander. 

"Okay," said Lafayette, sounding resolved. "Then I will have a job by the end of the month." 

 

Lafayette came back into the apartment two weeks later with a contract in hand and a bag slung over his shoulder. That went well. A lot better than he had hoped. 

Alexander was at school, John was at his new shift at the grocery store. Lafayette set down his bag and pulled out one of the books inside. He surveyed the cover. This seemed like an okay job. He would be making money, and that was what was important. But something told him Alexander would not be happy. Alexander and his pride. Still, even Lafayette couldn't help but feel a little bit ridiculous as he read through the back cover of the book. He had certainly come a long way from mansions in Paris.

He was better than this, but this made money. And money was good. And Alexander would just have to deal with that. 

He shut the book and went over to the sink to get a cup of water. Alexander and John would be home any minute now, and he would have to tell them first that he got a job and then what that job entailed. He would have to show them the books and then he would have to go and read them. No more free time. But who really needed free time anyway?

"I'm home," called Alexander's voice from the door, followed by John's. 

"Lafayette? You here?"

"Do not go into the living room!" Lafayette sprinted out of the kitchen and ran up to both of them. He didn't want them to see the book until he could explain. 

"Um, okay?" said John as he shrugged off his coat. "Why, do you have something hidden in there that we aren't supposed to see?"

"Sort of." 

They both pulled away before he could give them kisses on their cheeks. They didn't do that because they actually minded, just because they thought it was funny. Lafayette rolled his eyes and retreated into the living room. "You can come, just hang on a minute." He moved the book and then sat down on the couch. "So," he said. "I have gotten a job today."

"That's great!" said John. 

"That was quick," said Alexander, smiling. "What's your job?"

Lafayette took a deep breath. "I design infographics for a self-help book company."

The smile faded a little off of Alexander's face. "What?"

"Self-help books," said Lafayette. "I have to read them and then design infographics for them." 

"That's... okay, what are the books?" asked John.

Alexander frowned. "Lafayette, please tell me you are not making infographics for  _'21 Steps to a Cleaner Kitchen'_ , or whatever. You are so much better than that."

"It's not a cleaner kitchen." Lafayette took out the book and handed it to them. Alexander and John read the title and a spasm of pain crossed Alexander's face.

 _Soulmates: 21 Steps to a Healthier Relationship_ , read the cover. Underneath the title was a picture of an embracing man and woman, with short sleeves exposing obviously fake soulmarks. 

Alexander lifted his eyes in horror. Of all the terrible, humiliating jobs on the planet, amazing Lafayette had to get one that was so ridiculous. "Lafayette, why?" he asked.

"You told me to get a job," said his soulmate defensively. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song John and Laf were dancing to is called "Hold on Forever" by Rob Thomas. It's great. Listen to it.


	24. Stage Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lafayette works on his job in unexpected ways and Alexander and John are forced to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this fic is REALLY long, but I still have a lot of plot points I want to hit. So I'm going to guess that this could get to the length of a book or longer. It may turn into a 65k. Everyone on board with that? No one's getting sick of it?

And so classes came and classes went, and Alexander found himself at the center of a slow whirlwind of homework. Honestly, he felt that he was completely on top of things - from his essay, he'd known how to work overtime and double time and up late into the night. Now that that was gone everything felt so slow. He wanted to be working at his old cramming pace, but now that the essay was over, it was too much to hope that anything more would come of it.

On the whole he felt that it was a failure. The  _Daily_ had published it. A few people online had commented that it really opened their eyes. One blog reposted it. And then it ended. He had spent the money. He had been published, and all for nothing. 

Alexander tapped a pencil. He honestly wanted to write another essay, but he couldn't think of anything to say that he hadn't said already. Besides, what was the point of writing two long essays on the exact same thing?

He wanted to write an essay on... on  _anything._ So long as he could be writing. 

His muse was gone and his homework still was not finished.

Alexander picked up a pencil and kept going with his homework. He sometimes wondered if there was any merit behind John's idea of dropping out - he certainly COULD get more done that way - but unlike John, he loved school. He wanted a degree. And since he was also in his senior year, having started a year early, he didn't want to quit now.

 _One more semester and I'm good to go,_ Alexander thought. 

He kept working for another hour, then got up and left his room for a quick coffee break. Outside it, Lafayette was slung across the couch reading one of the self-help books he had to design the infographics for. Alexander felt somewhat embarrassed for his soulmate. At least he didn't have to read them at all, though. 

"Alexander, come here for a second," Lafayette called. 

Oh no. 

"John too. JOHN!  _J'ai besoin de toi!_ "

John came into the living room a minute later from where he'd been in the kitchen. "Yeah?"

Lafayette waved both of them to sit. "I am working on the infographic for stage three, and I need your help."

"Stage three?" asked John. 

" _Oui._ There are seven stages and each stage has three steps, so that..." He flipped to the back cover. "'So that anyone on their journey of love can find words of wisdom in these pages'."

"That's disgusting," said Alexander. 

"AND SO," Lafayette shouted over him, "I need you to pretend we are at stage three so I can design an infographic."

"What is stage three?"

"You've just met, but you do not know each other very well yet."

"And what stage are we at?"

"Probably stage five. We love each other and we have a deep relationship but we haven't moved to stage six yet."

"How do you move to stage six?"

"By getting married."

"We are never moving to stage six."

"Right. And right now, we're pretending to be at stage three - so calm down, Alex." 

Lafayette ignored both of them and picked up a notepad that he had been drawing on. He sat up, laid it across his lap, and untucked a pencil from behind his ear, then fixed one of the curls that had slipped out of his ponytail from the motion. "So we are going to play a game," he said, as he thumbed through the guide book.

"I hate games."

"Then you are really going to hate this," said Lafayette. "This is called the 'getting-to-know-each-other' game. I will ask you questions about yourself and you will answer them. Pretend I do not already know all the answers,  _oui_?"

"This sounds so stupid," muttered Alexander. 

"Okay. John, you first." Lafayette glanced across the paper and made a quick note on the paper. "What is your favorite color?"

"What is this, first grade?"

"FAVORITE COLOR."

"Hmm. I have absolutely no idea." John thought for a moment. "Um. Favorite color."

"You can just say rainbow and have it be all the colors."

"I guess red is okay?"

"Great." Lafayette scribbled that across his notepad and then turned to Alexander. "Your turn. What is your favorite color?"

"Fine. Sea-green and chocolate brown," he smirked.

Lafayette hit him with the notepad. 

"Ow!"

"Next question," said Lafayette calmly, while Alexander rubbed his arm.

"You never told us your favorite color."

"It's blue. Now, what is your... wait, what?" He re-read the question. "Hmm. Alright, what is your favorite thing to do for a date?"

John buried his face in his hands. "No, come on..." 

"Laf, I'm sorry, but this is really stupid."

"We don't exactly do dates."

"Because we are not those kind of soulmates," replied Lafayette, pointing to the cheesy, false cover. "But like I said. PRETEND!"

Alexander and John both stared back at him angrily. Lafayette sighed and scanned down the list for a better question.

"Fine, fine, I will change it. Here, this one might be better. Tell me your Worst Day Ever." 

Alexander started to respond, but Lafayette cut him off. 

"It does not mean your ACTUAL worst day ever. That's not till stage four."

"Then what does it mean?"

"It means, um..." He read through the question, trying to figure it out. Alexander looked over at John, who seemed equally confused.  _Honestly, Lafayette, the things we do for you..._

"It means a first-world problem that affected you a lot in the moment," said Lafayette finally. "And had an impact in some way. But not like a family member dying sort of impact, do you see?"

"Sure." Alexander rolled his eyes. "Let me think."

His actual worst day of his life would probably be the day of the hurricane. Or, naturally, the day his mother died. Or maybe the day Peter was arrested. For true, terrible days he had so many to choose from, but on this artificial, superficial level he couldn't think of anything. 

"When I was five I had a dog and it ran away," he said finally. "We never found it. Good enough?"

"Sure. Sad but not too sad," said Lafayette as he wrote this down. 

"What's yours?" asked Alexander. "You're making us do this stupidity, you should have to go first."

"You already went first. But mine was probably the time that a hyena was killing the cattle in our village, and I took a gun and went to find it. I could not find it and someone killed it first. Thus I lost all of the glory and I broke my arm tripping over a log. Because it was late at night."

"How do you break your arm tripping?"

"I do not know. But I did. John?"

John answered easily, as though he had known the answer as soon as the question was asked. "My Worst Day Ever was February 15th, when I was 17. Martha came and said she knew it was a day late, but she had written me a love letter. That she'd been working on it all day the day before. It broke my heart, because I felt that there was something so wrong with me. I mean, it was a really sweet letter. And I didn't feel the same way. I felt like an enormous jerk."

They both watched him shrug the memory off, like he had been keeping it within for eons and finally released it. Finally was free of it's weight. 

"That's actually pretty bad," said Alexander. 

"Yes." Lafayette skimmed his notes. "I think I have all I need, but there is one more question and it is saying this one is mandatory." He checked to make sure he was right. "Do you love me, and if so, what do you love most?" He glanced up at them. "I guess I can go first?"

"Go ahead," said Alexander, hoping it wasn't obvious that he liked this question. 

"Great. So  _oui,_ I love both of you very much. Alexander, I love everything about you, but mostly I love that you are so committed. To me, to your work, to helping the world. You're non-stop, you see. And John, I love that you are so brave. You always keep going even when things are bad, even when what you are doing is helpful to us rather than to you." He beamed at them. "You can go next, John."

John laughed a little. "Um, wow, Laf. Okay." He cleared his throat and then laughed again. "I can't."

"Just try."

"Okay. I love you because... Lafayette, you're this adorable ray of sunshine. And you, um, illuminate everything in my dark life. And then Alexander, you can read my mind like it's one of your essays and you can change the way I look at the world... just by looking at me, if that makes any sense whatsoever." He shook his head. "I'm bad at this. You go, Alexander."

"Shoot." Alexander groaned. "How am I supposed to follow that?"

"You have to," prompted Lafayette. "The book says it is mandatory."

"Fiiine. Um, I love you. I love you both like crazy. I don't know why. I don't think there are words in the English language to explain why. I just do. Good enough?"

Lafayette smiled. "Great."

And with that he went back to work on his infographic. Alexander and John watched him, then glanced at each other. John smiled, and Alexander ducked his head. 

_You two have made me completely stupid._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> J'ai besoin de toi - I need you


	25. The Post's Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After helping Lafayette with his job, Alexander gets one of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare for the arrival of a very familiar character! I've been waiting FOREVER to get to this plot element. Hopefully it goes well!

Three weeks had passed, and Alexander still did not have a job.

John watched as his soulmate made endless phone calls, drove off for interviews. Alexander even contacted the  _Daily_ to ask if they wanted any more writing from him, only to hear no and no everywhere he looked. If Alexander weren't so argumentative, maybe he'd have more of a chance. But he was in a bad enough mood as it was, and John didn't want him to be even more frustrated.

So while Alexander made small, miscellaneous publications and Lafayette made the infographics, John continued working overtime. Now that he had dropped out, he switched all of his shifts so that he could be at home in the evening. He still worked the night shift at the hotel twice a week, though, which meant that often he would get home at one in the morning and then sleep in. Which meant that often Alexander and Lafayette would leave for King's and he'd wake up after they'd gone.

It was a complicated life, with a lot of work, but every second was worth it. Every long night sitting in a lobby waiting for someone to maybe come along, every hour driving around between two different jobs, every night he was up late - all of that was rewarded the moment he got home and Lafayette and Alexander hugged him and welcomed him back.

This was the life he wanted. Forever. 

Though it would be nice if Alexander got a job and he could work a little less. 

 

Three weeks of sunrises and late hours and phone calls. Alexander did not have a job yet.

Lafayette could tell that he was getting extremely frustrated. Alexander didn't like to feel useless. Anyone could see that. Lafayette wanted to tell him that it was okay, that he didn't need a job for them to love him and be thankful for him, but he was worried that would make Alexander stop looking. He was hard to read sometimes, especially when he was angry. You never knew what level of angry he was. 

Alexander stormed into the kitchen one morning, where Lafayette was in the middle of his daily routine. "I didn't get it," he announced in quick, harsh French. 

Lafayette handed him a cup of coffee, which completed step three of the daily routine. "Good morning to you as well."

"They're just going to keep turning me down."

"You said that about your essay too, remember?"

"Yeah..."

"And then what happened?"

"It got published."

"Exactly." Lafayette poured a second cup of coffee. "So cheer up."

"Writing jobs are so hard to find, though."

Lafayette sighed. "Then Alexander, maybe you can't get a writing job for now."

"But I need one!"

"Alright, alright. Whatever you say, _mon cher._ " He glanced up at the clock. "We have to run, so eat quick!"

He left and went down to John's room and opened the door. His other soulmate had been up late working the hotel the night before. "Are you asleep?" Lafayette asked softly. When John didn't answer, Lafayette pushed the door open the rest of the way and went in. He set the cup of coffee on the nightstand next to John's bed and looked over at him. John was all tangled up in blankets, and he looked very cold. February in New York City wasn't a good time to wear a t-shirt, and John should know that because they had told him at least twenty times. Lafayette fixed the blankets around him and smiled. Better. He slipped back out of the room and closed the door quietly behind him, then went and grabbed his book bag from his room. 

"Alexander, I am leaving with or without you."

"Coming..."

Lafayette sighed and started out the door. Alexander could make his short legs move fast enough to catch up eventually. 

This whole not-having-a-job thing was becoming a problem. What if Alexander never got one? No, there were plenty of jobs in the world, but then again, Alexander was only looking at the writing ones...

His soulmate was not in a good mood about this. When Alexander set his mind to something, he refused to be satisfied until it was accomplished. And right now? Well, right now it didn't look like this something ever would be accomplished. 

 

The phone rang.

Alexander was sitting in the living room writing when it did, and he reached over and grabbed it. The number was unfamiliar, but he swiped to accept and pressed it between his shoulder and ear anyway.

"Hello?"

"Hello, this is George Washington, of the _New York Post_."

Alexander froze.

"Is Alexander Hamilton at home?"

Lafayette and John were both watching him. Alexander nodded, then realized the man on the other end couldn't see this and said, "Um, yes, this is he." Instantly he felt stupid. "I mean, I'm Alexander Hamilton." Why was the  _New York Post_ calling him?

"Excellent," said the man on the other end - Washington, he had said. "Mr. Hamilton, I'm calling because of your essay in the  _Daily."_

"O-okay?"

_Who is it?_ John mouthed. Alexander shook his head.  _I don't really know._

"One of our editors found the installments. We were all very impressed. That was when we discovered that you had submitted to us with this paper before. However, it's vastly improved since then. Now, Mr. Hamilton, what I'm about to tell you is very important, so please listen closely, alright?"

"Okay?"

"We have contacted the  _Daily_ about purchasing the rights to your essay, and received permission - if you agree. So, how would you like for your essay to appear in the  _New York Post_?"

Alexander actually thought he would fall over. "I'm sorry, what?"

"If you agree, we will publish one of the installments of your essay in our newspaper."

Alexander felt his throat tightening. "Wow - yes," he said. "Yes, sure, go right ahead. Um, I, I don't know what to -"

"You won't receive much monetary compensation, I'm afraid."

He deflated.

"Not for this essay, at least." Washington seemed to be checking something. "Yes. Alexander, we've researched some of your other work, and found that you are an astounding writer. If you would be willing to come in for an interview - as a mere formality - it's entirely likely that you would be offered a job here at the  _Post._ "

That time, Alexander actually did fall over. Lafayette and John both ran to him, but he was on his feet instantly. 

"Yes - of course," he said. "I'll come. Whenever you want me to."

"Excellent. Saturday, at three thirty."

He gave the address and the office where Alexander could find him. 

"Thank you," Alexander kept saying. "Thank you, thank you so much. Thank you."

"You're very welcome," said George Washington. "If all goes as I'm sure it will, you will have a job by the end of the week. Goodbye, Alexander."

"Goodbye, Mr. Washington. Thank you again."

The line went dead. Alexander dropped the phone and collapsed into his soulmate's arms.

"IhaveajobIhaveajobI'mworkingfortheNewYorkPost."

"Slow down," laughed John, holding him so he wouldn't crumple to the floor. "Tell us what happened."

What did happen? Alexander could hardly remember.

"Come on," said Lafayette excitedly. "Tell us."

"George Washington called me and he works for the  _New York Post_ and he practically gave me a job and, and..." He gulped. "Guys."

"What?" they both asked.

"I am working for the  _New York Post._ " 


	26. Thomas Jefferson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the job interview for the New York Post, Alexander Hamilton meets someone and right from the start it is loathing. Unadulterated loathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just saw Wicked on it's National Tour, and it was amazing. I now have a second favorite musical.
> 
> I also went to a weekend-long conference for the YMCA'S Youth and Government program, and I was nominated for best lobbyist twice! The hotel we stayed in had a portrait of Alexander right next to my room, and portraits of Washington and Lafayette in the state Capitol, where I got to mock lobby. It was an honor and it was so fun. I had an amazing time. And naturally, I got selfies with the portraits. They'll be on my blog very soon because I will not be a victim of pics or it didn't happen. ;p So I'm back at last to give you all fic! Hope you enjoy!

_Sometimes, a thought will come that consumes your entire soul. It's often a thought that you can't say out loud, because it could cause offense - but it floods your mind and fills every cell in you, and you just want to scream it out. But you can't, for whatever reason._

At least, this was how Lafayette felt when he found out that Alexander was really, really adorable in a suit. 

The writer walked into the living room and drew a deep breath, then turned to look at both of them. "Okay," he said. "This is happening."

"You're going for an interview at the New York Post," said John from the couch. He got up and fixed Alexander's tie. "And you're going to do great."

"Say it again. It still doesn't feel real."

"I've said it fifty times." John turned him around and grabbed him by the shoulders. "Alex, whether you get it or not, I just want you to know that I'm so proud of you. You've done an amazing job with this essay." 

Alexander ducked his head. He was proud of himself too, even if he was too proud to admit that he was proud. 

"Okay," said Lafayette, getting up. "We have to go or you'll be late." He grabbed the keys in one hand, Alexander's wrist in the other, and started to the door.

"Hold up," said Alexander. Lafayette glanced back at him.

"Something wrong?" he asked in French.

"The shoes are killing me. I can't walk in these."

Lafayette rolled his eyes. "Alexander, you'll be walking into a building, sitting down, and then coming out of the building. That shouldn't be too difficult."

"Stop complain," John cut in. Lafayette raised an eyebrow. 

"You need to practice more."

"What?"

He sighed. It was great that John was taking French online, but he still had a lot to learn. "Good job," he said, still in French. "Just keep working on it?"

"Will do."

"Great." Lafayette seized Alexander again and dragged him out the door to the car. 

 

Alexander craned his neck to see to the top of the enormous skyscraper stretching up into the air. He could just barely see it.  _The_ Post _can't possibly be that whole building, can it?_

Lafayette and John both got out of the car and joined him on the sidewalk. "Whoa," said John. 

"I know."

Lafayette looked over at Alexander. "Do you know where you're supposed to be going?"

Alexander nodded. "Yeah, he sent me his office number."

"Do you want us to come in with you?" John asked. 

Alexander was about to say no, they didn't have to bother, but he was so nervous that some support might be a good idea, even if they couldn't stay for the actual interview. "Would you?"

In answer, John stepped forward and grabbed the door for him. Alexander smiled. 

They walked into the lobby of the building, which was bustling with people everywhere. Men carrying briefcases. Women in skirt suits chatting on cell phones, their high-heels clicking as they rushed to their work. Alexander felt his head spinning. It was loud and entirely overstimulating. This was obviously not just the headquarters for the  _Post._

"Breathe, Alexander," whispered Lafayette, his hands on Alexander's arm to steady him. "Where are we going?"

Alexander glanced around. "Elevator."

"Good."

They rode up to the Post's floor, and Alexander fished a sheet of paper out of his pocket. He had written down Washington's office number on it, so he wouldn't completely forget. Things were a little more quiet here, though, as they had been so loud downstairs, that wasn't saying much. He glanced around, then pointed. "That way." 

With his soulmates right behind him, he strode down the hallway, trying to seem confident. They passed people holding cups of coffee, on their way to their own offices, and they all seemed to be watching him. Alexander wiped his sweaty hands on his pants. His head was spinning. He'd never been this nervous before in his entire life; his stomach twisting, and his body trembling. 

Finally, he reached the office. As he approached, he noticed a man was standing outside, leaning against the door. Was that him? George Washington?

"Um, excuse me?" said Alexander timidly. "I'm -"

The man turned around and stared Alexander down, and instantly the writer shut up. He had a frizzy mane of curls around his face and dark skin a few shades deeper than Lafayette's, with cold features twisted into a sneer as he looked Alexander up and down. He was taller than either of Alexander's soulmates. And currently, he was blocking the door to the office.

"So you're the new kid the general dragged up?" he asked. There was a slight Southern twang in his voice. 

"Um, yes," stammered Alexander. "My name's Alexander Hamilton... are you...?"

"Oh, right." The man rolled his eyes and extended a hand lazily. "Yeah, good to meet you. Thomas Jefferson."

Alexander took his hand and shook it awkwardly. "Alexander Hamilton."  _Wait, I already said that..._

"You already said that." He swept his eyes across John and Lafayette and raised an eyebrow slightly, but gave no comment. Instead he turned back to Alexander and waved towards the office. "You shouldn't get too excited, ya know. You're the fifth this week. The general's got kids going in and out of his office, but they all leave empty-handed."

Alexander's heart sank. "Just curious," he managed to squeak, "why do you call him the general?"

Thomas Jefferson smirked. "No reason that you need to worry about." He flopped into one of the chairs outside of the office. "Look, kid, ya ever read the Declaration of Independence?"

Alexander nodded. It was probably the most famous essay in history, even though it had only been published three years ago. The essay was a masterpiece, and had gone so viral that the President actually posted about it and requested a copy to be framed and hung in the White House. And it had come out of a writer from the  _Post._ "Who hasn't read that?"

"I wrote it."

Thomas Jefferson laughed aloud at the look on Alexander's face. "I read your essay. It's okay. But you have a long way to go if you want to be a real reporter." He slung his legs over the arm of the chair. "Go in and get your little interview done. I'll wait to talk to the general after. Shouldn't be too long."

Alexander wanted to spit something back, but the writer of the Declaration of Independence wasn't someone you argued with. He took a deep breath and glanced back at the door. 

"Relax," Lafayette whispered in French. "Don't let him throw you off guard."

"What if he's telling the truth?" Alexander asked. 

"Alexander, it's okay," John said, also in French. "You're great. Okay?"

Alexander nodded. "Right." He drew a deep breath and then shuddered. "I'm so freaked out. What if I don't get it?"

"Then life continues and you keep writing," said Lafayette firmly. "But didn't he pretty much promise you the job?"

"Kind of...?"

"Then you have nothing to worry about." Lafayette squeezed his shoulder. "Go on, now. You're going to do so great."

"We love you," added John. 

"I love you, too."

John gave him a quick hug; Lafayette did the same. From his chair, Thomas Jefferson laughed and muttered, "Ugh, PDA." Alexander started; John and Laf grabbed his arms to calm him down. 

"Alexander," Lafayette hissed. "Interview. Go."

Alexander steadied himself, drew a deep breath, and turned towards the office. "Okay," he said. They let go of his arms. Alexander opened the door and stepped inside.

 

Maybe he was doomed to spend the rest of his life surrounded by tall people.

George Washington was easily six foot two, possibly more. He rose to shake Alexander's hand, and Alexander had to lift up his arm to meet the editor's. 

"Mr. Hamilton," said Washington. He had a gentle voice that somehow didn't quite match the picture of power that he struck. "Good to meet you at last. Come, sit down, sit down." He waved at the seat opposite his desk. "Now, then." He lowered himself into the seat behind the desk. "To business. You made it alright?"

Alexander stammered at this break in topic. "Oh - yes, the place was easy to find."

_It's a huge skyscraper, what did you expect?_

"Good, good." Washington shuffled through some papers on his desk. "Now, Alexander - I can call you Alexander?"

"O-of course."

"Good." He folded his hands on the desk and leaned forward. "Alexander, we got the rights to your essay from the  _Daily._ Installment 5 was the most powerful; it will be published on the twentieth of next month. Meanwhile, you'll start work as soon as possible, if you're ready. I'll -"

"Wait," said Alexander. Washington stopped talking. Alexander tried to catch up to his spinning thoughts; finally he reached out and grabbed one, and let it tumble out of his mouth. "Working next week? You're just going to give me the job?"

"Of course!" Washington laughed. "Alexander, I told you this interview was a mere formality. Really, I want to discuss what work you'll be doing for us. Is that all right by you?"

Alexander nodded dumbly.

"Good. In that case, you'll start work next week. I'll send you the topics I want to see something from you on, as well as your deadlines. You are writing for our opinions column, okay?"

"Okay."

"The deadlines are a bit strict - if you don't make one, you may be considered for removal. I expect everything you right to be as good as your Moderate Papers. Do you have someone you trust to proof read it?"

"I can have my soulmates do it."

Washington hesitated at the plural form of soulmates, but then smiled. "I wouldn't exactly call a soulmate... or several... unbiased. Ah, I know. You've read the Declaration of Independence, correct?"

_Oh no._

"The writer, Thomas Jefferson, works here. I can have him assist you, until you get the feel of what we want. I'm sure you'll both be good friends."

Alexander stuttered, but Washington seemed to be finished. He handed over a packet of papers and clapped Alexander on the shoulder. 

"Be back here on Monday with the finished articles on these topics. 2000 word maximum, and not much less than that either. You can do that?"

"Yes, sir." 

"Very good. In that case, Alexander, I'll see you soon."

Alexander left the office. Jefferson, Lafayette and John were all still there, glaring at each other, though his soulmates looked over at him. 

"What happened?" asked John. 

But Alexander only stammered, still not entirely sure what in the world  _had_ happened, and what was to happen next. This had been, without a doubt, the most confusing five minutes of his life. 


	27. The Rule of the Marquis de Lafayette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander and John make a big mistake and come to majorly regret it. Lafayette is not what you would call helpful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pure, plotless fluff because I wanted to have some fun. Enjoy? It will make more sense if you know about Les Mis. If not hopefully you'll still get it.

And so Alexander's life continued all over again. With every big event in the past few months, it felt like he was turning a page and starting another chapter in a book that went on forever. 

There were times when he wondered if somehow  _he_ could go on forever. Maybe when he got old he would slow down a bit, but it felt like he wrote so much that he would just never have any  _time_ for dying. It was a long way in the future, to be sure, but he'd imagined it so much that it almost felt like something from the past. 

_What is it like to die?_

Would he fade into nothing, or would his life just snap out, like a candle pinched between two supernatural fingers? 

Or would he just, somehow, continue? 

Alexander wanted to be immortal. Not necessarily in a literal way, he didn't want to struggle on for the rest of time in a destroyed body - but he did want his name to live forever. A thousand years in the future, he wanted his story told in textbooks and his face printed across now-hallowed sheets of canvas hanging in museums, where people reverently stared up into his eyes, which though painted by the best artists of the day would never be as beautiful as John had made them, and whisper, "That's Alexander Hamilton. Without him, this country wouldn't be what it is today."

Sometimes he wondered if fate or destiny, the same destiny that had brought Lafayette and John to him, was guiding him out of this small apartment and into the world's spotlight. This feeling was at it's most acute in early morning, the ones where he would watch the sunrise with his soulmates and feel the colors of the sky illuminate him. As the three of them stood silhouetted against an enormous and indifferent skyline, Alexander would feel the wind whip his hair back and send it dancing through the air, and he would close his eyes, only to open them again and glance over at his soulmates. The city of one-marked people and obscure people and people who didn't know his name was coming alive... and he was already alive, as if he'd been reincarnated for the thousandth time into a life of passionate writings and sharp awareness, summoned from the depths of some mediocre sleep by two sets of perfect, gorgeous eyes. 

_We were never meant to be ordinary._

 

 

Alexander wrote for the Post so much that he felt like he wasn't spending enough time with his soulmates. 

He hated the fact that there were only twenty-four hours in the day, and that he was required to spend six of them shut up in the confines of sleep. If only God could step down his staircase of clouds, stretch out a hand, and say,  _"Alexander, because you need to write, I am going to give you the gift of never having to sleep again."_ He would accept in a heartbeat. 

To make up for the fact that he couldn't give them enough time, Alexander tried to find other things for them to do - together, or by themselves if bored, or anything so that he wouldn't feel completely terrible. And one afternoon, he made the mistake of suggesting that Lafayette watch Les Miserables. 

It was a terrible idea. But it was a movie about French people, so he thought it would be nice. It somehow never occurred to him that Lafayette would love it a little too much and become obsessed.

_How was I supposed to know that this would be the outcome?_

"How could you not have known that this would be the outcome?" John hissed right into Alexander's ear to be heard over the soundtrack that was now blaring from their soulmate's CD player. 

Alexander buried his face in his hands. "If I knew he was going to become this obsessed, I would never have..."

"Wait, where did he get the soundtrack?"

Alexander gulped. John glared at him. 

"Alexander, so that I can keep my respect for you, please tell me that you did not buy that soundtrack for Lafayette."

"Okay, you know that really cute face he makes when he wants something?"

"Not cute enough for you to doom us." John grabbed Alexander by the shoulders. "You know how bad he was after watching the movie. PLEASE tell me you did not buy him that soundtrack. Tell me Eliza gave it to him. Please." 

"He's so adorable I couldn't say no," Alexander whimpered. 

John threw his hands into the air as One Day More began for the fifth time. "LAFAYETTE, SHUT UP."

"VIVA LA REVOLUTION," shouted Lafayette from the other room. 

John sank into a chair next to Alexander and covered his ears. "Alexander, you turned our soulmate into a fangirl." 

"It's not my fault," Alexander protested again. 

"It is entirely your fault." 

"How was I supposed to know?"

John sighed. "It doesn't help that Eliza loves it too." 

"Yeah..." 

One Day More began again, and John shot up and marched down the hallway. A second later, the music stopped and he came back with the CD in hand. "Hide this," he said, pressing it into Alexander's hands. "Please."

A few minutes later Lafayette came into the room and thrust out a hand. "Alexander, give me the CD."

"We're making a new rule that you can only listen to it once a day."

"Sorry, I make the rules around here. Give it."

"Yo, I'm the one who spent fifteen bucks on this thing. I get to decided how it's used."

"Give me the CD."

"No." 

"...Please?" 

"ALEXANDER," John shouted, "DO NOT GIVE IN TO THE CUTE EYES." 

Alexander covered his own eyes. Lafayette reached across to snatch the CD, but Alexander grabbed it back. Lafayette tackled him and tried to wrestle it away. 

"John, catch!"

John snatched the CD out of the air and ran. Lafayette jumped up and sprinted after him. 

"Give me the CD!"

Evidently he didn't get the CD, for he returned to the kitchen a moment later in a huff. 

"I hate both of you."

"Come on, don't say that," said Alexander. Lafayette glared at him. Alexander tried to hold his hand, but Laf pulled it away. 

"Don't let him guilt trick you," said John, returning. "He needs to take a break from Les Mis." 

"We'll see about that,"  Lafayette said with a slight smirk. Alexander and John looked at each other over the top of his head, suddenly very afraid. 

 

John picked Alexander up from King's after his shift and Alexander's classes ended, and they drove home. 

"Are you sure he's not going to be able to find the CD?" Alexander asked on the way. 

"I'm positive. I hid it again last night. And then I hid it again this morning."

"Where is it?"

"In the back of your closet, inside your old laptop's CD player, at the bottom of a box filled with blankets, closed in a safe, wrapped in tissue paper."

"Nice," said Alexander. 

"And I hid the keys to the safe in a pair of my shoes," John added. "He will never find it."

And it seemed he hadn't, for when they walked in the door, there was no soundtrack playing. Alexander kicked off his shoes and shouted, "We're home," but there was no reply. 

"Laf?"

They both started into the living room, then stopped. All the furniture was missing. 

"Oh no." 

Together they sprinted to the hallway that led down to the bedrooms. There, about halfway down the hallway, was an enormous stack of every piece of furniture in their apartment. All the chairs from the kitchen, the couch, Alexander's dresser, John's nightstand, the table, the sidetable, even a mattress. Seated on a chair at the top of this jumble was Lafayette, with a French flag in hand and a smirk across his face. 

" _Bonjour_ ," he said. "Welcome to the barricade."

Alexander gulped. "Um, Laf, please come down from there before you break your neck."

Lafayette threw back his head and laughed. "Come down? No, silly, that's the whole point." He switched to English for John's benefit. "This barricade does not come down until you give me back the Les Mis soundtrack. And I am not coming off this chair until I have the CD in hand." He pointed the flag at them. "And if you are trying to take it down, I will fall and most probably die, and then it will be your fault and you will have murdered me."

"Come on Laf, this isn't funny," said John. "Take down that thing. Please."

"No! Not until you give me the CD."

"Okay, okay," said John. "Except..." 

 _The CD is in his room,_ Alexander realized. 

"The CD is in my room," John finished. 

Lafayette held up the tissue-wrapped safe. "Is it in this?" 

John nodded. "Yeah." 

"Oh. Where's the key?"

"In my brown loafers."

"Were those the brown loafers you wore to work?" Alexander asked. 

They both glanced down at John's sneakers. 

"I changed my shoes at work," John realized. "And then I left the loafers in the car."

"There were no keys in the loafers," said Alexander. "They must have fallen out?" 

There was a moment of absolute silence. Then John swore. 

"Well, I guess you will have to buy me a new CD then," said Lafayette lightly, and he tossed the safe down. John caught it. 

"John, my laptop's in there," Alexander said urgently. 

"One of us has to have a bobby pin..." 

"Yes, but sadly your rooms are blocked by my barricade." Lafayette hummed a song from the soundtrack while Alexander and John glared up at him. 

"Okay, we'll buy you a new CD," said Alexander. "Please take down the furniture and come down from there." 

"Mm, no, I do not like you that much," Lafayette said, running his fingers absently through his hair. He turned back to them and pointed the flag down. "So it is the rule of the noble Lafayette that you two are to sleep on the floor tonight." 

"You can't tell us what to do." 

"Yes, I can. I will make myself nobility." He thought for a minute. "Ah,  _mais oui,_ I shall be a Marquis. Then I am above both of you!" He laughed and switched to French. "So by the rule of the Marquis de Lafayette, you two will sleep on the floor of the living room tonight. And if I find that you disobeyed me and went to a hotel or Eliza's or whatever, the barricade shall remain in place for another week."

"So pics or it didn't happen?"

" _Exactement."_ Lafayette resumed playing with his hair. "If you are wishing to please the Marquis de Lafayette, I say you may want to get the CD very very soon." 

 

 


	28. Barricades and Enemies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of the barricade's creation, Eliza is needed... again.
> 
> Also, Jefferson continues to be annoying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized while betaing this that John plays with Alexander's hair three times in this chapter. Maybe that's excessive? But hopefully effectively cute?

Needless to say, John and Alexander had to sleep on the floor.

There were blankets in a hall cabinet, so they at least didn't have to curl up on cold faux hardwood boards. John thought briefly that he should sleep on the couch, only to remember that the couch was in the barricade.

Alexander had stormed back into the apartment around nine at night with his hands shoved into his coat pockets and a scowl across his face, and announced that the store didn't have copies of the Les Mis soundtrack. By that point Lafayette had climbed down from the barricade and gone into his room, where apparently the bed still survived without having become a sacrifice to the furniture jumble. Alexander went to try to take the furniture down, but when he pulled a chair out, a desk fell and almost crushed him. 

"I have a specific way that you must take them down," Lafayette called. "It's the only way that will not cause a chain reaction. Good night, Alexander." 

Alexander threw the chair back onto the pile. "This is just unfair."

"We dug ourselves into this by taking the CD," said John with a sigh. He was just glad that Frances' cage hadn't made it into the barricade. 

They dug blankets out from the closet and spread them out on the floor. Alexander stomped around the kitchen for a while pretending to tidy up - actually just making noise and huffing about not being able to use his laptop. John got bored of listening to this and curled up under one of the blankets. The pillows that had been on the couch were still there, so John rested on one of those. After about ten more minutes of angsting, Alexander came back into the living room, snatched a pillow, and flopped down onto the floor a few feet away.

"If Lafayette weren't so cute I might kick him out."

"You wouldn't." 

"Fine, I wouldn't."

Alexander unfolded a blanket from the pile and rolled it around himself. He looked like a small, angry sushi roll, and John couldn't help but be amused. 

"Want me to text Eliza and see if she has a copy?"

"Please," Alexander muttered. John got up to get his phone and sent the text, then crawled back under his blanket. 

"If he doesn't take that barricade down -"

"Alexander, go to sleep." John closed his eyes and ignored the writer's continued mumblings against the pile of furniture in their hallway - personally he found it kind of funny, but decided against saying so. "Please, Alex."

"Fine, fine..." 

John opened one eye and looked across the room. "If it bothers you so much, we can try to take it down." 

"Nah." Alexander punched his pillow a few times and settled back into it. "It's okay. I just wish I had the laptop. My new one's in my room..."

"I'm sure this will boil over by tomorrow and he'll put it all back."

"I don't know. He's pretty determined to keep it up."

John's phone buzzed and he sat up to grab it from it's spot on the floor nearby.

E.S.: Leave it to me.

"She's got it covered, I guess."

"Great." Alexander rolled out of his blankets. "In that case I will be writing on a notebook." 

"No you won't." 

"I just got an idea."

"Get back under those blankets and go to sleep." 

Alexander sighed, but he fixed his blankets and eventually fell asleep. John reached over and brushed back his hair where it had fallen in front of his face. 

 

John was awoken later by the sound of pounding on the door. He kicked off the blanket and went to it, pulling it open. Eliza was standing there.

"Eliza?" mumbled John. "It's one in the morning..."

"I know. You said it was urgent, though."

"You have the soundtrack?"

"I pirated it off of YouTube." She held up a flash drive. "It's all here."

John sighed in relief. "Wow, thanks." 

She surveyed the blankets on the floor. "So you were kicked out of your bedrooms?"

"Blocked out. Go look."

Eliza went down the hall to see the barricade; John sat down next to his soulmate. Alexander was still sound asleep. John ran his fingers through the writer's hair. A few moments later, Eliza came back. 

"He made that?"

"Yep."

She laughed and shook her head. "He's crazy. Hey, move over."

John started - "Huh?"

"I'm not driving back home at one in the morning through the pouring rain." She curled up in his makeshift bedroll and scooched away from him, putting a few feet between them. "Good night."

John shrugged. "Okay, good night, then." He got one of the other blankets and curled up in that. Alexander slept on, his breath warm against John's shoulder. John was just about to join him in sleep when he heard a crash. He shot bolt upright; Alexander and Eliza somehow slept through it. A few moments later, Lafayette wandered into the living room dragging two blankets behind him.

" 'Liza's here?" he muttered. "Took down the barricade."

And with that he crawled into the narrow space between Alexander and John and fell asleep.

John crept to the hall to confirm that the barricade was down. Sure enough, the furniture was scattered around the floor. Nothing appeared to be broken. He left it there - he'd wait till he had daylight and three pairs of hands to help him put it away. After turning out the light in the hall, he went back to the living room and joined his soulmates and Eliza on the floor. He was asleep in no time. 

 

 

 

Alexander had met annoying people before. Henry Laurens, for example, was high up on that list.

But he had just been moved down a spot. Thomas Jefferson was the single most annoying person on the planet.

"So you wrote this?" the other reporter was saying as he flipped through Alexander's article. "Yeah, it's okay... I would have used a more descriptive adjective here though... and here are you sure this is necessary... oh wow, that part's really bad." He flipped the next page. "Whaaat? It just ends without a real conclusion?" He handed the papers back to Alexander covered in red marks. "Sorry, needs work."

"Thank you, Thomas," said Washington with a sigh. "I think we can publish it this time, though. We've already had Alexander do three drafts."

Jefferson crossed his arms. "A fourth can't hurt."

"This is my fourth," said Alexander. "I wrote two based off your last criticisms."

"You see, Thomas?" Washington took the papers from Alexander. "I think it's fine the way it is, son."

_I wish he'd stop calling me son._

"I disagree," remarked Jefferson, perching on the corner of the desk. Alexander glanced over at him. How in the world was he still wearing a suit coat in here? Even Washington was down to just a dress shirt. The heat was on far too high for anything else.

"By the way, have you looked up the results of your essay?" asked the editor as he shuffled through Alexander's article.

Alexander shook his head.

"You've received some excellent feedback. A few celebrities have tweeted it."

"WAIT, WHAT?" Alexander whipped out his phone and googled his essay. If he was going viral and didn't even know it...

"By which he means one YouTube star," Jefferson muttered.

" _Thank you,_ Thomas."

Jefferson threw up his hands and stormed out of the office. 

Alexander pocketed his phone again. "Sorry," he stammered. "I just got... excited."

"It's quite alright, Alexander." Washington clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Now listen," he said. "You do realize that Thomas' feedback is invaluable?"

"Of course, sir," Alexander muttered through gritted teeth. 

"Excellent!" Washington patted him on the back. "Well, you know what you need to be working on for this week?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very good. We'll see you soon, then."

Alexander left the office. Jefferson was standing outside with his arms crossed. 

"I still think that needed work."

"You're in my way," said Alexander. "Please move."

"Why, are your boyfriends waiting for you outside?"

"My  _soulmate_  is here to pick me up. Please move."

"I mean it, Hamilton. If you aren't going to turn out good work then you aren't fit to work here at all."

Alexander glared up into his cold eyes and disdainful sneer. "I'm proud of my work."

"How nice for you."

Alexander glanced the man up and down, looking for something to insult. He felt the need to fight back. "Well, if you're going to sweat like a pig, you shouldn't work here either."

Jefferson snorted. "That's really the best you've got?"

"You could at least lose the long sleeved suit coat..." Alexander muttered lamely, realizing how ridiculous he sounded. 

"Nice try." He stepped aside. "Get lost." 

Alexander stormed down the hall and into the elevator. 

_I hate him I hate him I hate him I hate him..._

He jammed the button angrily. Thomas Jefferson was going to do everything he could to get Alexander fired, that was almost certain. So Alexander would just have to do everything he could to hold onto his job. 

He fumed all the way out the building, waves of fury rolling over him. Finally he tumbled into the passenger seat of the car and jammed his seatbelt into the lock.

"So how was work?" John asked. 

"Annoying. As usual."

"Work was?"

"Jefferson was." 

"I see." John studied Alexander. "Well, you're a thousand times smarter than him, so don't let him get to you."

He reached over and smoothed back Alexander's hair. At the touch of his fingertips all of Alexander's anger evaporated. 


	29. Love Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lafayette decides to amend John's Worst Day Ever, and Alexander has a few thoughts.

"February 15th is the best day of the year," Lafayette announced as he swept back into the apartment. 

Alexander looked up from where he was working on his next article for the  _Post._ "Yeah? Why's that?"

"Because it's my Worst Day Ever?" asked John.

Lafayette rolled his eyes. "Noo." He gestured to the shopping bag he was carrying. "Because all the chocolate goes on sale and you can get tons for very cheap."

They both stared at the shopping bag in his hand; then Alexander drew a deep breath.

"When you said you were going to go run errands with Eliza..."

"Yes?"

"Please tell me that didn't just mean you went and cleared out CVS of cheap chocolate."

"We didn't clear it out. We left some for other people to buy. Here's your credit card back." He pulled this out of his pocket, along with two envelopes. "Oh, by the way, these are for you." 

"What are they?" asked John as Lafayette handed Alexander one of the envelopes. "The receipts?"

" _Non,_ today is February 15th. It is your Worst Day Ever."

"I know...?"

"I'm fixing it." He handed the other envelope to John. "I wrote you a love letter." 

John froze, unsure what to say. 

"Only mine is better than whatever Martha gave you. It's a different kind of love letter. You'll like this one." He picked up the shopping bag and walked off to the kitchen. "So now February 15th doesn't have to be a bad day anymore, and Alexander can be happy too."

John looked over at Alexander, who was still staring at the envelope. 

"He's amazing," John said. 

Alexander nodded agreement. "We don't deserve him."

" _You_ don't deserve him," John corrected. Alexander rolled his eyes; John smiled and tore the envelope. "Nah, I don't either."

Alexander opened his envelope and then instantly noticed something. "Laf," he called. "You put the comma in the wrong place."

"Alexander, don't be such a grammar freak," John muttered. 

"I did that on purpose," Lafayette called back. Alexander just shook his head and started reading. 

_"My beloved, Alexander_

_I wrote both of your letters in French, so you might have to help John. I know that you already think you know everything there is to know about everything, including about us, but I wrote this so I could tell you a story that you've lived through a thousand times - from a different point of view. You're currently in the best part of it, the perfect middle where everything is amazing and beautiful and there isn't any sadness. The story has a distinct beginning, but I pray that it will never have an end. After all, the sun can rise a thousand times, and even when it sets you know it will rise again. Maybe that's how it will be for the three of us, and we can go through endless days of light together, always pulling through even when we fall into night... This is the story of a French boy who left his home and came to love two Americans with shields and diamonds on their wrists..."_

 

If life was made of endless sunrises, there would still have to be a sunset at some point. 

The light of the sky that he had watched on so many mornings with the two people he loved, that light came at the end of the day too. Then, however, it preluded a blackness, an emptiness, rather than a day full of promises not yet chased out and smiles not yet exchanged and embraces he had not yet been wrapped up in. The colors of the evening were the last display of light before the solemness of night. 

Maybe he always stayed up late writing because somewhere, deep inside of him, there was the deep fear that all humans possess somewhere in them, the fear of the dark. Everything can seem perfect, and then the sun could crash out of the sky and pitch someone into night again.

But as he wandered into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around his soulmate, a small portion of that fear evaporated. Certainly, there was darkness in the world. There was emptiness and fear and night that would come and cast shadows over something good or joyful. But there were soulmates with him now, people who loved him and would stay with him. Lafayette laid a hand against Alexander's cheek and pressed his lips against the writer's temple, and Alexander closed his eyes. 

_I can get through anything if I have you with me._

 

Both of them came to get him from work the next day. His essay had, in fact, been reposted by several celebrities, and it gave him a sense of pride and accomplishment that made him unusually cheerful.  Jefferson was sour as he watched Alexander walk up to his soulmates, who had come in.

"What took so long?" John asked.

"Sorry; I had a lot to do." Alexander accepted the hug John gave him. "I'm going viral, by the way."

"You are?" exclaimed Lafayette.

"I think so."

"That's amazing!" Lafayette hugged him too. "Alexander, I'm so proud of-"

"That's disgusting."

They all turned to see Jefferson, who Alexander had forgotten was still there. He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, studying them.

"Excuse me?" said Alexander coolly. 

Jefferson waved a finger in a triangle, including all of them. "You. Three. You're always touching and holding hands and whatever. Don't you even get how stupid you look?" He straightened up out of his slouch and waved his hand in the air. "You just love each other blindly because some drawing on your wrist told you to. It's so fake."

"Fake? How's it fake?" asked Alexander, stepping forward. His fists clenched at his sides.

"If you weren't soulmates, you'd never act like this. You probably would never even have become friends."

"That's -" Alexander paused, looking for words, and for an instant his guard went down.

"That's not true," said Lafayette for him.

Jefferson glanced at him. "Hey, I'm having a conversation right now."

"But you have no idea what you're talking about!"

The reporter whirled on Alexander's soulmate. "Listen, French Fry, I need you to stay out of this"

"Leave him alone," said Alexander, summoning his argument. "I'm the one you wanted to offend."

"Guys, let's just go," said John. "Please."

"No, I want an answer from you," said Jefferson. "Come on. Would y'all really have fallen in love if you didn't have your marks?"

"You don't want an answer, you want a reaction." John grabbed Alexander's arm and glared at Jefferson. "Come on, Alex."

Alexander pulled away from him. "You want my answer?"

"Oh great," John muttered. Alexander ignored him and got right up in Jefferson's personal space.

"Fine. Here it is. You know absolutely nothing about us." He jabbed a finger in the other man's face and continued, "You have no right to tell me how to act with my soulmates. And as for whether or not this is fake, you are completely missing the point of a soulmate. The point is not to love someone blindly because the mark tells you to."

"Then what is the point?"

"I'm getting to that, would you shut up? The point is to love someone who has the same mark as you and then to know that even if they didn't -" He grabbed both of his soulmates by the hand - "you would choose them anyway. Come on, let's go."

He turned around and marched down the hall, practically dragging John and Lafayette with him. It was only after he got into the car that the realization came to him. 

_Jefferson probably doesn't have a soulmark._

He shared this idea with his soulmates. "That's why he always wears long sleeves. It has to be."

"You think so?"

"That would make sense," John agreed. "It would explain why he's so bitter."

"So is he jealous of you, maybe?" suggested Lafayette. Alexander smirked. 

"I have the two best people in the world as my soulmates. I think everyone's jealous."

They drove home. Along the way, John's phone buzzed and he handed it to Alexander so he wouldn't have to take his eyes off the road. It was a text from Eliza, asking if John could drive her home after her shift at work the next day. 

Eliza. She was a sweet, amazing girl. She had been his only friend for three years, and the few times they'd kissed, he had liked it. But now, because he knew he would never and could never leave his soulmates, a friend was all she would ever be. And though they hadn't talked about it, he thought that somehow, she understood that. She seemed happy with the way they all were now. And of course, she had her own soulmate. She had Angelica. 

So he'd never get married to her. He'd never move on to whatever stage was next if they categorized themselves by one of the stupid books Lafayette was reading. 

Instead he would live in a gentle eternity with the two most beautiful, incredible people on the planet. They had been inescapably drawn to each other, and now there was no way to fall out of the spell. There was no way to escape this current that had grabbed him and pulled him along, tossing him under and bringing him up for air that he no longer felt he needed. There was only one path he wanted; to keep moving forward, step-by-step, and have John and Lafayette with him forever.

_"This French boy had almost too many names to count, but none of them really mattered until he heard them repeated from the mouth of a writer, who had the French boy's mark written across his skin. From the moment that the boy first heard the writer's name and felt it escape his own mouth, he knew - I knew - that my fate was sealed and I would never be the same again."_

"Hey Alexander?" John whispered as they drove. 

Alexander looked over at him; the artist took his hand off of the shift and knitted his fingers through Alexander's.

"I love you, Alexander." 

Alexander smiled and leaned back against the headrest of his seat, closing his eyes. "I love you more."

John's mouth curved upwards; he guided the steering wheel with one hand and ran his thumb over Alexander's with the other. He didn't let go for more than a second, until long after they were back at their apartment. 

There can be a thousand sunrises, but the sun will set at some point.

And in an instant, everything can change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter.
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	30. World Turned Upside Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sunsets always come.
> 
> In an instant, everything changes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you all very much. Just so you know. I really love all of you.

Since John went to pick Eliza up from her work, Alexander had to walk home. The air was warmer than usual, for a New York winter, so he didn't mind too much. When he got back, Lafayette was already there. Alexander said hello, decided not to fight off the inevitable  _faire_ _la bise_ , and then got to work on his next piece for the  _Post._

People were talking about his essay and clamoring for more, and Alexander was happy to oblige. His current piece was a little less political, just observations on protests throughout the centuries. It was more historical than argumentative. He didn't mind, though, because history was not Jefferson's strongpoint, so there would be far less for him to complain about. Alexander might not have known Jefferson for very long, but he already really hated him. Sometimes he would fantasize about shoving a pen up Jefferson's nostril.

But he shouldn't be so bitter. He had work to do. 

Alexander became so absorbed in his writing that he didn't even glance at the time until it was four thirty. Lafayette came into the living room where Alexander was working.

"Shouldn't John be back by now?"

"He had to get Eliza, remember?"

"I thought she worked at the store."

"That's fifteen minutes away." Alexander kept typing. "I'm sure he'll be here soon."

"Well, it's his night to cook, so he'd better." 

"Why don't you do it, and he can take your night?"

"Sounds fair enough." Lafayette went over to the kitchen, and Alexander kept typing. 

Around four forty-five, his phone rang. He set down his laptop, went over to his backpack, and fished the phone out, assuming it was John.

 _Angelica Schuyler_ , read the number on the screen. Alexander raised an eyebrow. Angelica never called him. 

"Hello?"

"Hello, Alexander. It's Angelica."

"Hi, Angelica, how are you?"

"I'm fine." Angelica paused for a moment. "Alexander, is Lafayette with you?"

"Um, no, he's in the kitchen. Do you want to talk to him?" _If she did, why didn't she just call his phone?_

"No, thank you. Get him, please."

Alexander called Lafayette back into the living room, growing more and more confused. 

"Is he there?"

"Yeah." Alexander put his phone on speaker. 

"Hello," said Lafayette.

"Hello, Lafayette." Angelica sighed and for a moment there was silence. "I need you to both sit down, okay?"

Alexander sat down with Lafayette beside him, suddenly concerned.

"Lafayette, I'm not sure if you know this, but I work as a nurse in the nearest hospital," said Angelica. "I'm on at the ER."

"Okay?"

"A few minutes ago..." She drew a deep breath. "A few minutes ago, they brought John and Eliza in on stretchers."

...and Alexander stopped breathing.

"He was driving her back," Angelica went on. "Then a truck pulled out in front of them without checking his blind spots. From what I can gather, John threw his arm out in front of Eliza, and then they crashed."

_They crashed._

Eliza.

John...

_John._

Lafayette was sobbing; Alexander clutched at the phone through shaking fingers. 

"Are they - alright?" he choked out. 

"Eliza's sitting here with me. She has some cuts and she's in shock, but otherwise, she's fine." 

"Good; that's good," said Alexander, his heart pounding. "And John?"

There was a moment of terrible, absolute silence.

"Is he alive?" Alexander screamed into the phone.  _Is my soulmate alive?_

"He's alive."

Alexander allowed himself a sigh of relief. "So he's okay?" His fingers tightened on the phone and he begged silently to anything listening for the next words -  _he's fine, he's bruised up a little but he's just fine._

But instead of these words, he was answered by another silence. Then -

"You need to come here right now," Angelica said. 

 

Alexander hung up the phone and grabbed Lafayette by his shoulders. 

"Laf, listen to me." 

Lafayette was screaming, sobbing so hard that Alexander wondered if he could even see. He shook his soulmate roughly. 

" _LAFAYETTE, LISTEN TO ME._ "

"Alexander..." Lafayette gasped. "John - he could be -" 

"I know, I know. Look at me." When Lafayette kept sobbing, Alexander slapped him hard across the face. "LOOK AT ME!" 

Startled, Lafayette shut up and looked up at him. 

"You need to get a bag together for if we have to stay overnight, okay?" said Alexander. "You need to be ready in one minute and meet me at the door. Then we're going to take a taxi to the hospital." 

"Why would we need to stay overnight?" Lafayette whimpered. 

Alexander let the answer hang in the air; when his soulmate had found it his eyes flooded with tears again.

_In case he's in such bad condition he might die sometime in the night, and we'd need to be there with him._

"Go pack," said Alexander. "Go quick. Be brave, Lafayette." 

His soulmate nodded, and gulping down tears, fled to his room. Alexander went into his own and grabbed a bag. His hand was stinging, smarting like it had been pricked with thousands of small needles. There was a bruise from where he had hit Lafayette.

_I hit him._

_Why did I do that?_

Because...

Because they needed to go to the hospital. Because John was dying. 

Alexander crumpled to his knees suddenly and bent his head down into his hands. His body began to shake as he sobbed into his palms; a tear ran down his wrist and over his soulmark. The small quill pen. 

John,  _John..._

_John is dying._

_And I'm just sitting here._

Agonies heaped up on him and he gasped for breath. One of his soulmates was probably dying. He could already be dead. Alexander shook his head, trying to get his thoughts straight.

_I hit Lafayette, I need to move, John is dying..._

_John. Is dying._

Lafayette slipped into the room like a shadow and quietly grabbed a bag out of Alexander closet. Still crying, he walked over to Alexander's dresser and threw some clothes into the bag. A small sob escaped him, and he glanced over at Alexander, concerned, before kneeling down and handing him the bag. 

"Come on," he whispered. "Please Alexander." 

Alexander looked up at him through the tears in his eyes.

"We have to go to John now," Lafayette said. He wrapped his hands around Alexander's arm and pulled him up. "Come on."

 

Alexander and Lafayette burst into the doors of the Emergency Room. Angelica, sitting with Eliza, looked up as Alexander skidded to a halt in front of her.

"Where's John?" 

"Third floor -"

Alexander took off before she could say anything else. Lafayette glanced at Eliza, who was sitting by Angelica's side. She was staring blankly ahead, her face marred by a few cuts. He wanted to say something to her, but John needed him more. Without another word, he followed Alexander. 

The writer was already on the staircase, nearly a full flight ahead. Lafayette let the door slam behind him and sprinted up.

"Alexander, wait!"

But Alexander didn't wait. He just kept right on running, barely even seeing the stairs. How was he doing that? Lafayette followed and managed to catch the door to the third floor before it slammed behind Alexander. 

The door let into a waiting room, with a desk in the middle. Alexander ran up to this and collapsed against it. 

"Where's - John-" he gasped.

"I'm sorry?" asked the woman behind it. Lafayette caught up to Alexander and glanced at the woman. 

"John Laurens," he told her. "Where is he?"

"One moment please." She began typing at her computer.

Alexander gasped, trying to breathe. Lafayette wrapped an arm around his shoulders and watched the woman, impatient. Why couldn't she hurry? John really needed them, he could be really hurt...

"I'm very sorry," said the woman, turning to them, "but John Laurens can't have visitors right now."

Alexander stared at her, as if she had spoken in another language. "Why?" he asked. "We need to see him. We're his soulmates, please just let us in..."

"He's currently in surgery, and to ensure the concentration of the doctors, no one can go in until they're finished."

"Surgery?" stammered Lafayette.

"Yes sir." She gestured to the chairs against the wall. "Why don't you wait here and I'll let you know as soon as they're done?"

The world slowed down from the rapid pace they'd been caught in, and the blood pounding in Lafayette's ears faded away. Alexander's eyes were full of tears again. Lafayette guided him into one of the chairs, and Alexander crumpled into his arms and started to cry. Nearly everyone in the waiting room was staring at them now; Lafayette tucked Alexander's head under his chin and glared at all of the others, who turned back to whatever they were doing. Turning his attention back to Alexander, he held the writer tight. 

He was so worried about John. The fact that he was in surgery made this worse.  

Lafayette buried his face in Alexander's hair, tears clinging to his eyelashes. Some let go and rolled down into Alexander's ponytail. The ones that fell onto his bruised cheek smarted like small irons pressed there. But whatever small pain he felt from being hit, John's pain must be ten times worse. 

 _Please please please,_ Lafayette prayed silently,  _please let us go to him as soon as possible, please let him be okay, please..._

 John was in surgery and in pain, and they were just here, sitting here, while people they didn't know cut him up and stitched him together, in some room so close but so far because they couldn't get there. Just this morning before Lafayette left for school he had brought coffee into John's room and fixed his blankets and kissed his forehead, while his soulmate slept. John had been _there_ , real and close and alive, just fine, not hurt or bruised or scarred. Not a few yards and a thousand miles away. 

Never, in his whole life, had Lafayette felt so completely helpless.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.


	31. Helpless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander makes an impossible request. Lafayette struggles to help him when his own heart is broken.
> 
> John stays locked in shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't respond to any comments (other than one) because believe it or not, this is as upsetting for me as it is for you. A), I'm wondering if doing this to real people is super un-cool and they'll be mad when I meet them in Heaven, B) I'm just so mean I can't stand myself, and C) Everyone being sad makes me sad. So I'm really sorry again. But I think this has plot relevance. And I think I've done justice to Laflams and they will not be too mad. 
> 
> This ship causes me a lot of pain as well as a lot of happiness - my family and friends don't entirely like it, pure fics for it are impossible to find, and there's always that one part of me that is worried I'm not doing it justice and these three guys who created the best love story in history would be ashamed of me. So yeah. I get lots of joy from writing about the trio, but I get lots of worry and gray hair too. But honestly, that makes it even more valuable. 
> 
> So if you all want to boycott me or put my head on a spike because I hurt John... I totally get where you are coming from. I'm sorry again. I'm a mean person. But that's not ending any time soon!

Angelica came up ten minutes later and took a seat next to them. Alexander lifted his head enough to observe her presence, then when she said nothing, buried his face in Lafayette's shoulder again. Angelica sat there in silence for a long time, before Lafayette finally spoke.

"Is Eliza okay?"

"She's fine," said Angelica. "She can go home tomorrow." 

Alexander lifted his head but still didn't speak. 

"I don't know if you want to hear this," Angelica continued, "But John probably saved her life. The airbags didn't go off in time, so she probably would have crashed through the windshield..." She drew a deep, shuddery breath, the kind that barely disguised tears. "Eliza means more to me than anything in the world," she whispered. "And I'm so, so grateful to him..." Suddenly she bent her head forward into her hands and began to cry. The rose on her wrist shook as her body quavered with sobs. Alexander and Lafayette both watched her, until she lifted her head and looked back at them.

"I can't even imagine what this is like for you," she said. "But I do know now, how it feels when your soulmate is in danger. If there's absolutely anything I can do to help, please tell me."

"Can you make sure you are on staff in John's room?" Lafayette asked. "When he gets out of surgery?"

"I'm not on in this floor..." She thought for a minute. "No, but I'll pull some strings and make sure that he gets a good nurse. And I'll see to it that you're both allowed to spend the night here." She smiled a little. "There are rooms for the families of long-term patients, and I happen to know that one of them is empty." 

"Thank you," Alexander managed to say. 

Just then a nurse came into the room and crossed to the staircase; before she could open the door Angelica was by her side and talking in a low voice. She glanced over at Alexander and John, and Angelica grabbed both of the woman's arms and took on a desperate tone. After a moment, she nodded and then came over to them. 

"Are you Alexander and Lafayette?"

"Yes."

She held out a hand. "I'm Nurse Reynolds. Angelica said she wants me looking after your soulmate." She gestured towards the hall. "He just got out of surgery." 

Alexander stood up suddenly and then sank back down, afraid. "How is he?"

"Want to see for yourself?" 

Lafayette and Alexander both stood up to follow, then stopped, unsure.

"Go with her," Angelica said. "You can trust her. I'm going back to Eliza now, okay?"

Alexander grabbed her arm. "Tell her we'll come visit her when we can, and Angelica..."

Angelica looked down into his fear-widened eyes, and smiled reassuringly. 

"You're welcome," she said gently. "Go on now. And Alexander... be brave."

 _Be brave._ He had said the exact same thing to Lafayette earlier, but now they would both need to obey that command.

Nurse Reynolds waited until Angelica had gone down the staircase before she turned back to Alexander and Lafayette. "Do you want to follow me?"

Alexander nodded. She checked something on the clipboard in her hand and then turned around. "This way." 

Slender fingers wrapped around Alexander's and squeezed; the writer squeezed back and then, drawing in a deep breath, followed the nurse down the hall. His footsteps seemed to echo and, just as the world had sped up before, it suddenly slowed down so that the people all around seemed to be moving in slow motion. Nurses pushing racks laden with bags of fluids and cords, patients pushed in wheelchairs, wheeled beds being sprinted through the halls... What was inside the room where Nurse Reynolds was taking them? How would John be, inside of that room? Awake and healing? Asleep and dying? 

She stopped outside of a door and turned to face them. "You have to understand," she said quietly, "he was terribly hurt. He's probably not going to be awake for a long time." 

So John was in a coma. Alexander closed his eyes, then opened them again. 

"Are you ready?" asked the nurse. 

Was he ready to see his soulmate lying unconscious in a hospital bed? No, he wasn't; but he had to go in all the same. He needed to be with John, even if his soulmate wouldn't be aware of it.

"I'm ready," he whispered. 

Nurse Reynolds bit her lip, then opened the door and stepped back to let them in. 

The room was cold, sparsely furnished. An opened curtain would have split it in half, but that was gathered into a small alcove opposite two large windows, the thin drapes on both of which were drawn. Alexander tore his eyes off of this, stepped further into the door, and forced himself to look at the bed. 

John was lying on his back with his eyes closed. Stands laden with plastic bags filled with liquid rested in clusters around his bed, tubes going in and out of his body. There was a large machine beside him counting the beats of his heart in small upward angles on a screen. Moving closer, Alexander saw that John's beautiful face was criss-crossed in cuts and bruises. His bleeding lips were slightly parted as he breathed faintly. He looked... he looked almost dead, and at the sight of him Lafayette let out a scream and turned away. Alexander found he couldn't tear his eyes off of John; they scanned along his soulmate's face, taking in every injury, and down over the outline of his broken body under the blanket. One of his legs seemed twisted in the wrong direction; his chest lifted very slightly, in the same slow rhythm as the beeping machine by his bedside. The hand that had enclosed Alexander's only yesterday rested on top of the blanket, wrapped in bandages, still and unmoving. Silently, Alexander went to his soulmate's side and stood over him, looking down, sure that at any moment, John's sea-green eyes would open and his lips would form into the smile that the writer loved so much...

Alexander didn't realize he was crying until his tears fell onto John's face. He collapsed by the side of the bed and stared at his soulmate; unmoving, silent, lying trapped in darkness. So close and yet so far beyond Alexander's reach. 

"I'll leave you for now," Nurse Reynolds whispered from a thousand miles away. There was the faint sound of a door shutting, and then of footsteps as Lafayette crept over to the bed. 

Unaware of anything in the world except this harsh truth and this stillness, Alexander reached out and slowly placed his hand over John's. He turned his hand over, but the bandages were wrapped around his wrist as well as his hand, with the soulmark covered. A spasm of anger flashed across Alexander's mind and then faded away as he realized just how little anger would do.

He could move people with words. He could think his way out of any dilemma. 

But he could not heal John, or help John, or wake John up. 

He could only sit here...

Alexander slumped back, numb. His eyes barely registered Lafayette sitting down on the bed next to John; tracing their soulmate's face with his fingertips and whispering something Alexander couldn't hear. After a moment Alexander sat down next to him. 

"John, wake up," he said. 

He waited, but nothing happened. 

"John." Alexander reached out to shake him, but Lafayette, luckily, caught his hands. Instantly Alexander realized that if he hadn't, John might have been hurt even worse. "John, please wake up. Please. Please just open your eyes, come on..." 

"Alexander, stop it!" Lafayette sobbed. "Listen to me." He turned Alexander around and took his face into his hands. "Alexander, he can't hear you. Stop this." 

Alexander looked back down at John, so close. Of course he could hear, he was right next to him, so close, only a foot or two away...

Lafayette guided him into a chair. Alexander curled up and wept. 

 

They stayed with John for hours.

Nurse Reynolds - Lafayette learned at some point that her first name was Maria - came in a few times to check John's vitals and ask them if they wanted anything. They always said no. 

Alexander didn't unfold himself from the chair for at least an hour. He seemed to be trying to block out the room and the world, and Lafayette wondered for an instant if he had fallen asleep; before he heard the sobs that alexander was trying to muffle. 

He left the writer on the chair and went back over to the hospital bed, and sitting down next to John, took his hand and held it. He was still locked in the coma, eyes shut, barely moving. Even though he had told Alexander not to, Lafayette whispered John's name and followed it with a command to wake up. Only, he didn't. 

Lafayette counted the freckles on the bridge of John's nose. John didn't stir. 

He squeezed his hand so tightly, without even realizing it, that it must have hurt. But John kept sleeping. 

Lafayette bent down and pressed a kiss between John's closed eyes and didn't pull back for a full thirty seconds.

John did not wake up. 

Finally Lafayette just swung his legs up onto the bed and curled up with his head against John's chest, listening to the hesitant beats of his heart and watching them mirrored on the screen of the monitor. He closed his eyes and said nothing more. 

Alexander came over eventually and pulled up his chair alongside the bed. Lafayette opened one eye, then closed it again and snuggled closer to John. 

"What if he never wakes up?" he whispered against his soulmate's shirt. 

"Don't say that," said Alexander, hearing him. "You can't think that way. We can't give up or..."

But he decided not to finish that sentence.

Maria came in soon after and turned off the lights, then said, "The rooms are going to be locked in five minutes. I'm really sorry, but you have to leave."

Alexander and Lafayette both stared up at her. 

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "Do you want me to take you to the room Angelica got reserved for you? It's not too far away."

"Can't we stay with John?"

"Sorry, but you can't. There are rules. Patients need to be alone during the night."

"Okay." Alexander sighed. "Okay. Just... give us a minute."

She nodded and went back to the door. 

Lafayette crawled off of the bed and fixed the blankets around John, smoothing out his hair. Alexander let go of the hand he was holding and looked down at John. He looked so vulnerable, so broken...

Alexander swallowed hard. "John, we'll be back tomorrow, okay?" he stammered out. "So you just... rest. And we'll see you soon."

He pulled his soulmate up into his arms and whispered, "I love you. Please get better." Then, gently, he lowered John down into his bed and fixed the blanket. 

Maria led them through the silent hospital, up staircases and down halls, until finally they came to a wing separate from the patient's rooms. There were five doors attached to a small kitchen unit. She gestured to one of these.

"You can stay here. If another family needs it, you'll have to leave tomorrow, but for tonight you should be okay."

"Thank you," said Alexander. Maria nodded and left them. 

The room was small with two beds and a closet, much like a hotel room. Lafayette crawled into one of the beds right away and curled up, facing the wall. Alexander sat down next to him.

"Lafayette, I'm sorry I hit you."

Lafayette was silent. 

Alexander got changed quietly and crawled into his bed. They were quiet for a long time, before the Freshman pierced the silence.

"What if he dies?" he whispered.

Alexander closed his eyes. "I don't know."

They returned to the silence; then Lafayette and Alexander both reached across the space between them. Alexander's left hand closed around Lafayette's right, and still holding hands, they both fell asleep. 


	32. Truth Be Told

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When John still doesn't wake up from the coma, Alexander finally gets angry at someone who probably deserved it, and discovers something he didn't expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't clarify this before - Maria and Alex will NOT be having an affair. I'm not that historically accurate to begin with, so we're certainly not keeping things that could cause... issues. So nobody panic!
> 
>  
> 
> I've officially passed 200 kudos. WOW! I continue to be blown away by my amazing readers and how amazingly God has blessed me with this story - to be able to write it, to be able to get feedback, all that good stuff. I really think I've become a better writer. So thanks again! *initiates another group hug*
> 
> You may also notice I have a new username! I decided to shake things up a bit. Hopefully you still recognize me! *takes off mustache glasses* Henceforth I am known as Live_Love_Laflams. Okay? Okay.

Alexander woke up before Lafayette the next morning. The hospital didn't allow visitors until seven, and currently it was only six. He got changed, waited around stressing for a while, and then went out to the kitchen to make himself coffee, which sat there growing colder and colder as he thought about John. 

John... if he had died during the night, Maria or Angelica would have told them, wouldn't they? 

He went back into the room and sat down on the edge of Lafayette's bed. After a moment listening to his soulmate's breathing, he could tell that the freshman was awake. 

"Lafayette."

Lafayette said nothing, so Alexander kept talking.

"Look, I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. I know that you were just worried and..." He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the awful truth. "And I should never have hit you. It was terrible and I honestly don't deserve for you to stay with me." He reached over and grabbed Lafayette's hand. "But please do stay with me. We're already losing John..." 

Lafayette sat up as Alexander struggled not to cry - again.

"I don't honestly think I can live without you, Laf," Alexander said softly. "You - and John - you're everything to me. I'm so, so lost without you. And I hate myself that I caused you even a moment of pain-"

"Alexander, it's okay," Lafayette interrupted. "I forgive you. It doesn't even hurt anymore."

Alexander nodded, unable to express thanks through the tumultuous emotions surging through him. Love and pain and sorrow and fear and somewhere, hidden underneath, a small spark of hope that he dared not fan into a flame before anything was certain. They'd already been through good things and bad together and now they were shut up in the worst part of their lives, and what, to John anyway, could even be the end. 

He couldn't cope with this. He didn't know how. 

_I don't know much at all, it seems._

But he did know, perhaps more than he knew anything, that he loved John and Lafayette. And that he had caused Lafayette pain and, with all the unending love and goodness that he somehow possessed, Lafayette had forgiven him. Alexander needed to say something more, but he had no idea what. 

So he reached out and cradled Lafayette's head in his hand, turning the boy's face towards him. He leaned over and kissed the bruise on his soulmate's cheek and didn't let go until his emotions were back to a place where he wasn't going to cry. Once he let go, he tilted Lafayette's face again and kissed his other cheek, the one without a bruise. 

"I already forgave you, Alexander," Lafayette murmured, and Alexander pulled back. "You don't have to keep apologizing."

Alexander laughed a little and shook his head. "Yeah. Sorry." 

"There you go again." Lafayette smiled and squeezed Alexander's hand. "Now come on. We need to be by John's door as soon as it unlocks."

 

John wasn't worse. 

But he also wasn't better. 

Eliza was fine. They checked on her briefly only to hear that she was heading home. She was still in shock from the crash but almost completely unharmed, save for a few scratches on her face and arms. 

John stayed in the coma, shut away from them. Alexander didn't go to school or to work; he just stayed there, sitting beside the hospital bed with his soulmate's hand in his. The world could stop outside for all he cared. His world was eroding, breaking with every hesitant beat of his soulmate's heart that came more unsurely than the one before. 

If there was a balance in the world - if there was only a certain amount of joy each person was supposed to get - had he already exceeded his limit? Had his soulmates made him so happy that they needed to be punished somehow? Or worse, had he done something wrong to deserve this? The past few months of his life had been the best. A future that was a continuation of these had seemed so certain, so guaranteed, as if it had already been promised to him. Every word, every sunrise, every embrace and smile had seemed to come with the promise of a thousand more. Suddenly what had seemed so perfect and assured was slipping away with every passing second that John did not open his eyes. 

Alexander didn't eat. He barely slept. Lafayette tried to coax him into eating and get him to lie down, close his eyes even for a few hours. But it was useless. Alexander refused. 

Maria wrote reports on John's condition; she could fill one out in almost thirty seconds, which made it seem like they weren't changing. He wasn't getting better. 

John was dying. That seemed to be the only thing Alexander could be certain of. 

 

On the fourth day of this hell, Angelica pulled Alexander aside.

"Alexander, you can't just sit here."

"I have to," he replied instantly. Why couldn't anybody just understand that his soulmate was dying and he had to be there with him?

"No, you don't have to. Listen to me." She grabbed his arms and he flinched, wishing that people would stop saying to listen to them. Maria, Lafayette, now Angelica too. "Alexander, it's bad enough that you're skipping classes. You can't keep skipping work. If you get fired, how are you going to pay the medical bills?" She grabbed him more desperately. "Alexander, you have to go to work. Just to explain why you've been gone. Do something. Please."

"Work?"

"Yes, Alexander. Look, I can drive you, if you want."

Alexander shook his head, then slowly nodded instead. "You're right." He turned to look at her. "But I'm leaving for an hour tops." 

"Sure, whatever you want. Just go in and talk to your boss and we'll come back, okay?"

"Okay."

"Are you leaving, Alexander?" asked Lafayette as Alexander came back over to him.

"Yeah." Alexander cradled his face in one hand. "You wait here with John, okay? I'll be back soon." 

"You're going to leave me by myself?" 

"You're not by yourself." Alexander nodded towards their soulmate. "I've got to go in and tell Washington why I haven't been in. Then I'll come straight back."

"Can you do that?"

"Hey, enough questions." Alexander thumbed away one of Lafayette's tears and glanced over at John. "If anything changes... call me right away."

Lafayette nodded and moved his chair closer to John's bed. Alexander took a long look at both of them before following Angelica out the door. 

 

"Where in the world have you been?"

Alexander turned around from where he had been pounding on Washington's office door to see Jefferson standing in the hallway with papers in his hands. He scowled. Of all the people he didn't want to see right now, Jefferson had to be the one to show up. 

"Hello, Jefferson," he said curtly. "I need to talk to the general."

"Well he's out right now. It's his lunch break." Jefferson raised an eyebrow as he looked Alexander up and down, and Alexander realized that he was still wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. "Skipping the dress code, are we?"

"Look, I have to talk to Washington," said Alexander desperately. "When will he be back?" 

"Funny, he's been asking the same thing about you." Jefferson crossed his arms. "I can't believe you. You got a job at the  _New York Post_ and you're just throwing it away."

"I was busy," said Alexander, heat rising in his face. "If you aren't going to help me, at least get out of my way."

"No." Jefferson glared down at him. "I want to know where you've been. Anyway if you do track him down he's just going to inform you that you're fired. You can't skip five days of work and get away with it." 

Alexander stepped closer, his fists clenched. "You can't tell me what to do."

"You can't go and slander a good publication!"

"I never slandered the  _Post_!"

"Well you skived off on a job among people who's shoes you don't deserve to lick!"

"I only skived off because my soulmate is dying!" Alexander shouted into his face. "He got in a car crash, and my whole world is crumbling down around me and you - you have the _nerve_ to stand there and tell me I didn't come to work? Well I'm sorry, but I forgot because I was in a hospital, with the most important person in the world stuck in a coma!"

He broke off, panting, and awaited some response. When none came Alexander felt the adrenaline and fury slowly drain out of him, replaced by the now-familiar feeling of emptiness. He stared down at the ground. "So I'm sorry," he whispered, "if you're angry because I didn't come to work." 

Spent out and broken and on the verge of tears, Alexander kicked his toe against the back of his heel and gritted his teeth to keep from crying. He couldn't look up or break the silence or even move. He just stood there. Then -

"Which soulmate?" 

Alexander looked up abruptly and was surprised to see that Jefferson didn't look hostile.

"John Laurens."

"The one with all the freckles?"

Alexander nodded to the floor. 

Jefferson was silent for another moment, so Alexander started to speak. "I know you don't understand," he said. "But I...I love John so much. H-he's the world to me." A few tears rolled down his face. "I don't know what I'll do - if he dies..."

"Pssh, and you tell me not to make assumptions." The reporter rolled his eyes. "Trust me, I do understand." Jefferson marched over, slung off his suit coat, and pushed back his sleeve. 

His skin wasn't blank after all.

There was a thin black line across his wrist. Not a soulmark, though, and not a scar. Alexander blinked for a moment as realization hit him. 

_"So what does it mean?" he asked as he stared down at Peter's wrist. He had heard his cousin screaming a minute ago and come back in to see him gripping his wrist as if the pain of getting a soulmark had come. They'd started the lessons in health, so he knew that getting one hurt - though he hadn't gotten his yet. But Peter had. So what was going on?_

_Peter was crying for some reason, which scared Alexander. His cousin never, never cried._

_"Peter?" Alexander asked again. He glanced back down at his cousin's wrist. Where there had been a spade-shaped mark earlier, there was now only a black line. "What happened to your soulmark?"_

_"It's gone," said Peter, and Alexander flinched. His voice was harsh, sharp as knives but bordered with tears._

_"Why? What does that mean?"_

_"It means that my soulmate is dead."_

_Alexander jumped as if the words were a sudden noise. Peter continued to stare at his wrist and gave an ironic sort of laugh._

_"What? They didn't teach you this yet? When your soulmate dies, you lose your soulmark, Alexander. It turns into a line." Peter shook his head. "Only thing is, I never found my soulmate to begin with. And now I never will."_

_"Peter!" Alexander cried, but his cousin was already out the door._

Now he looked up into the slight, ironic smile of the man he hated... his worst enemy...

A man who's soulmate had died.

That was it, then. That explained the sleeves, the coldness, the bias he showed against Alexander and his soulmates. What Alexander saw over and over in his nightmares had become a reality for Thomas Jefferson. He had lost his soulmate.

Alexander swallowed. "I didn't know." 

"Hardly anyone does." Jefferson straightened up and fixed his sleeve. "Her name was Sally. She was everything I could have asked for - hot, funny. Smart too. Then we had a fight. And then we had another." He shrugged his coat back on and stared at the wall. "I was nasty to her - I took advantage of the fact that we were soulmates, and I took her for granted. I just figured she'd always love me 'cause her mark matched mine."

"And then what happened?" Alexander ventured to ask.

"We had another fight and she left in tears. A few minutes later, my wrist flashed and the mark vanished." He sighed deeply. "They found her car in a river three days later."

A spasm of pain for this man flashed across Alexander's heart. But Jefferson wasn't done talking.

"I don't know if she did it on purpose. I don't know if it was an accident. I never will know. But let me tell you what I do know." He turned sharply towards Alexander. "When I first met you? I thought you were a freak. I still think that, in fact."

Alexander started to say something, but Jefferson cut him off.

"You're a freak. But not for the reasons I thought at first. See when you came in here with those two boys hanging off you and cheering you on I could have thrown up. And then I started to watch you and think about what I had seen. I notice things, ya know." He was making aggressive eye contact now; Alexander stepped back a little, though he was locked on every word. "I see how your eyes light up every time John Laurens gives you some kind of affectionate line. I hear your breath catch whenever that French kid comes into view, like you're seeing him for the first time. And you know what? It's amazing. How much you love them. It's a lot more than how I loved Sally, maybe because it's a completely different kind of love. But it's there." He glanced down at his now-covered wrist. "Nobody deserves to go through what I went through. Not even me." He looked up at Alexander again. "So go back to him right now. I'll tell the general why you were out and make sure you don't get fired." 

And in that moment, standing in the hallway of the _New York Times,_ Alexander Hamilton could have hugged Thomas Jefferson. 

"T-thank you," he stammered instead. The reporter waved a hand.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. No one else is as fun to annoy as you." He raised an eyebrow. "Why are you still here? Go!" 

Alexander turned and ran back out to Angelica's car. 


	33. Open Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just as suddenly as the first change came, another appears, shimmering above the horizon like a sunrise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ^^I need coffee. 
> 
> I just want to randomly shout out to every single person reading this. I love you all so much. You're so amazing. I'm so blessed. Thank you. I'm not going to hurt you anymore.
> 
> I'm just going to hurt the trio. 
> 
>  
> 
> Oooh, let's play "spot the reference"! Where did the chapter title come from? Hint: it's a fabulous video game that LLL in all her poorness only recently was able to purchase and now must wait till April 11th for. Any takers? First to spot it gets a shout-out?

When Alexander got back, Maria was in the room writing something on a clipboard. Lafayette was nowhere in sight. As before, John was lying in bed with his eyes closed. The beats of the monitor were barely coming now; the triangles that spiked up across the screen were low and closer to the bottom of the line. Alexander looked at the nurse. 

"What's wrong?"

She lifted her head. "Oh, you're back. You need to check on your other soulmate. He ran off after I told him..." 

"Told him what?"

Maria sighed. "Alexander, if John's just going to stay in the coma, we might eventually have to..."

"No," interrupted Alexander. He was at John's side in a second, standing over him to shield him. "You can't consider that. It hasn't even been a week."

"Obviously we would wait," said Maria. "Until there was more confirmation that he wouldn't wake up, we'd wait for a long time. But eventually we would have to pull his life support."

"Shut up!" said Alexander, and she flinched. "You're not going to kill him just because you don't want to keep him alive! I'm not going to let you!"

"I wasn't saying any time soon -"

"Stop it!" Alexander yelled, and Maria fell silent. He gestured to the door. "Go. Go away." She hesitated, so he screamed, "Get out!", and she fled.

Breathing heavily, Alexander turned back to John. He sat down on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers through his soulmate's hair, carefully taking it out of the ponytail that no one had bothered to release it from. His fingertips trailed down the back of John's head, over his scalp and down through the waves spilling over his neck and shoulders. He traced John's face and felt his soulmate's breath against his hand; slow and soft, barely perceptible. 

"Wake up," Alexander whispered, even though he had been told not to. "Please wake up, John. I love you, and I need you to stay with me." 

He knitted his fingers through John's and kept talking.

"Remember how I told you to wait for me, and you did?" he said. "You heard me when you shouldn't have. So I need you... to hear me now..." He shuddered as tears began to flood his eyes yet again. "Open your eyes," he whispered by his soulmate's ear. "Wake up, John."

"Alexander?" he heard Lafayette's voice say from the doorway. Alexander turned around to see the freshman standing there; he came over and crawled up into the hospital bed on John's other side. Alexander moved over so all three of them could fit. 

"So Maria told you?" Lafayette asked. 

Alexander nodded. "I told her to get out. Looking back, that might have been a bit over the top."

Lafayette shook his head. "No, I don't think so. And I don't think she was mad either." 

"That's good."

Having nothing more to say, they both fell silent and lay there, watching the light in the room slowly fade as the sun sank lower into the sky. John was right beside them and a million miles away. Alexander felt so strange, to be right next to John listening to his heartbeat, while at the same time unable to reach him. Stillness and fear covered them like a blanket. But neither he nor Lafayette broke the stillness. 

Eventually Maria came back in and suggested they go get something for dinner, or go back to their apartment for a bit, or that one of them could leave to take a shower. When they both replied that they wanted to stay, she sighed.

"Look, you can't let grief replace basic care of yourself."

"She's right," Lafayette mumbled. 

"Go ahead," said Alexander. "I'm going to stay here. You should go eat something." 

"Not without you." 

It took Alexander three seconds to realize Lafayette was scared, though what of, he couldn't understand. 

"I'll stay right here, and we can switch off when you're done. Just go ahead." 

Reluctantly, Lafayette crawled out of the bed and went towards the door. He turned around before leaving. "Just promise me, Alexander, that you won't do anything... stupid?"

Oh. 

_He's afraid I'm going to kill myself because John is dying._

"Yeah, I promise. I won't. Go ahead." 

He left; Maria started to follow but Alexander sat up and called her back. 

"I'm sorry," he said. "You're just trying to help us, and I know that, but -"

"I think you need to stop talking now, Alexander," said Maria gently. "What's past is past."

Alexander nodded and curled up by John again. Maria left and closed the door behind her. 

He stayed there until Lafayette came back; then he went to their room, ate a clif bar in thirty seconds, took a fast shower, and then came right back. They both stayed there until Maria came to lock the door again; then kissed John's forehead and promised to come back the next day.

Even though they had barely done anything all day, they were both exhausted, and Alexander was asleep almost as soon as he crawled into bed. Lafayette took a comb and brushed Alexander's hair out before tying it back into a ponytail for him. Then he crossed the room and curled up in his own bed. His eyes slowly shut, and he fell asleep. 

The next morning, the three of them woke up. 

 

Maria Reynolds took the stethoscope off of the hook where she kept it, and picked up her clipboard. She ran her fingers through her short hair and sighed. She had barely gotten any sleep last night, after they brought a new patient in. And now she had to check up on John Laurens, first thing in the morning.

John was not getting better, and his soulmates needed to realize it, and nothing they could do would heal him, and she didn't see how anything she could do would help either. But she'd take his vitals and write her reports anyway, and hope that he got better, somehow.

She tugged on her scrubs, finished her jasmine tea, and started down the hallway, greeting the other nurses who said good morning to her. Angelica, who had been working all night and was on her way to the staff room, asked Maria where she was off to. When Maria explained that she was going to check on John, Angelica said, “How is he?”

To which Maria replied, “The same.”

Angelica frowned. “Can I come along?”

“Sure, but there's not much to see.” Maria led the way. All the days for the past almost-week had been the same – she'd take his vitals occasionally, and every time she came in, Alexander and the other boy with the name that was hard to remember – Lafiyette, maybe, or else Lafayelle or Leefiette – were always next to John's hospital bed or in it. Technically that was against the rules, but she felt so bad for them as it was – and they were already so heartbroken every time she opened her mouth that she figured keeping them away would just be too much.

They heard the sound before they reach the room – Angelica froze but when they listened Maria realized that it wasn't crying that they were hearing. For some reason or another, it was... laughter.

Both women ran down and looked in through the window on the door. Alexander and the French boy were both there with smiles on their faces – and arms around...

“Impossible,” Maria whispered.

John Laurens was sitting up, wide awake and laughing. The three appeared to be trying to smother each other with their arms, all tangled and holding on to one another, as both of his soulmates pressed kisses all over John's face. Maria wondered if she should try to put a stop to this – moving too much might rip John's stitches. But Angelica laid a hand on her arm as she started for the door, and Maria left them alone. They deserved this, anyway. Their soulmate had just practically returned from the dead.

Angelica smiled a little, and Maria turned around to look at her. Angelica just shook her head, and Maria was sure they were thinking the same thing.

_Those three..._

They adored each other. And while it was breaking about a thousand hospital rules for them to be in there – before a nurse had come, sitting on the patient's bed, arms around someone who was not supposed to be sitting up yet without approval, potentially ruining his stitches – it was the sweetest thing Maria had ever seen. She felt a pang in her heart, another on her blank wrist, and in that moment she made a decision.

_Even if I don't have a soulmark, someday, I want to love someone as much as those three love each other._

Apparently Angelica agreed, for she turned to Maria with a smile and inclined her head towards the window.

“That,” she said, “is what true love looks like.”

 

John was confused and disoriented and unsure of where he was. 

The last thing he had seen was a truck shooting towards them. Pulling out in front of the windshield. He had thrown an arm in front of Eliza without thinking. Then there was pain - and then there was nothing. 

Darkness and emptiness surrounded him. Shadows locked him to them, keeping him from going back up to the life he had come from. He felt like his body and his mind had become severed somehow, and while he could feel hands holding his and blankets spread over him, he could give no response. Could give no answer. He wanted to cry out that he was alive, that he was fine - but he couldn't move, he couldn't open his eyes. 

Then the pain came back. 

For an instant it was so bad and so much that he thought he would die, but then he felt arms encircling him and Lafayette's voice telling him to hold on. He struggled through it for a long time before his mind returned to the emptiness. Maybe he should have just surrendered then - but before he could he heard Alexander telling him to wake up. 

 _I can't remember how,_ he wanted to say. He couldn't remember how to wake up. But Alexander told him. 

Open your eyes. 

And so he fought recklessly against everything pulling him down. He fought to get back to Alexander and then -

With a snap his eyes had opened, and he gasped. He had found himself lying in a hospital bed with no one nearby and panicked for a moment - before he turned his head and saw Alexander and Lafayette arriving at the door. When they saw him they seemed to forget the door was locked. Apparently the door also forgot that it was locked, for it swung open and then they were there. Real. Close. Not far away like they had been earlier. 

Inhale, exhale. In the space of one breath they reached his side and swept him up into their arms. John clung to them and started laughing, even while tears poured down his face. A stab of pain flashed across his arm as he threw it around Lafayette's neck, but he ignored it and buried his face in his soulmate's shoulder, crying and crying. He made it - he was finally awake. 

He was back where he belonged.

Another flash of pain caused him to cry out, and they both pulled back. Alexander lowered him gently back down into bed. 

"Here, lie down," he said. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," said John. He smiled up at them, all the pain of the past few days dropping down on him. While still weightless - it didn't matter at all. All that mattered was that he was alive, and they were both here. John had genuinely thought that he was going to die and be taken away from them forever, knowing that would leave them with scarred wrists and broken hearts. And where would it leave him? Would death be like this - lost in shadows, able to feel everything but say nothing? Surely even hell could be no worse than that. 

But he wasn't there anymore... he was safe now. 

Lafayette fussed over fixing the blankets around him, and Alexander finger-combed his hair back into place. John caught his hand and held it against his lips. 

"I missed you," he whispered.


	34. Many Partings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has some visitors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And one of them is Death.
> 
> JK!  
> JK.  
> April Fools. Love you all. 
> 
>  
> 
> To the commenters amused by the door-forgetting-it-was-locked line - I had no idea that would be so popular, glad it was amusing. ;D Everyone is happy John is awake and it's nice to see that you're not all cursing my name anymore. Glad we're on good terms, but I doubt we'll stay that way. And the "open your eyes" reference is from The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild. I can't wait to get my copy. Yes, John is awake. Enjoy this chapter and thanks for continued support!!!

John was awake, but that didn't mean a miraculous healing. 

For the next few days, he struggled with the fact that he was conscious but unable to do anything except lie around waiting to heal. Alexander and Lafayette stayed with him - though Alexander did leave a few times to pick up an assignment from work or school. Eliza dropped by, hugged him tight, and whispered "Thank you" over and over again until finally Angelica had to coax her off of him. They both informed him they'd been checking on Frances, which seemed to be an enormous relief, Alexander noted. 

Three days after John woke up, Maria came in telling him that he had a visitor. 

"Someone named Henry Laurens is here to see you," she said. "Your father?"

Alexander spit out the coffee he had been drinking. 

"Alex..." Lafayette sighed.

"My dad's here?" John asked. "What's he doing in New York?"

"His name is linked to your insurance. We forwarded him the hospital information."

"Without checking with me?"

"It's standard procedure."

John sighed. "Where is he?"

"Pacing in the waiting room and demanding to see you." 

John's fingers clenched on the blanket, twisting up the fabric into a fist and releasing it as he thought over this. Lafayette grabbed his shoulder. 

"John, you don't have to see him if you don't want to. You can just send him away." 

"No," John mused. "No, I need to get him out of my life for good. It's fine." He looked over at Maria. "Tell him he can come in." 

She nodded and swept out the door. John sat up and collapsed back against a pillow Alexander fixed for him. He closed his eyes. Alexander glanced at Lafayette over the top of John's head, and his other soulmate nodded, looking resolved. 

A moment later, the door burst open and Henry Laurens rushed in, shouting, "Where is my son?" When he saw John his face paled and softened. He didn't look cold or vicious anymore. He looked... older, with lines under his eyes and greyed hair. He rushed to the edge of the hospital bed and reached for his son's hands, only to stop as Alexander and Lafayette grabbed them, blocking him off.

"Hi, dad," said John, opening his eyes. 

"John." Henry reached out awkwardly and then pulled his hand back. "John. They told me what had happened to you and I flew right out. I would never have imagined..." He shook his head and glanced around the room for a chair. Neither of John's soulmates offered theirs. Henry cleared his throat. "I..." He ran a hand through his thinning hair. "I want to apologize for... what happened a few months ago." He turned to Alexander and Lafayette. "I didn't treat either of you very kindly when you were my guests. For that I'm sorry."

"I think you need to apologize to John first," Lafayette said quietly. Alexander suppressed a smile. 

"Ah, of course." Henry nodded and glanced back over at John. "Could you two perhaps, leave us?"

"No," said all three soulmates at once. Henry nodded again. Alexander wondered if he even realized he was doing it.

"Very well, then. Ahem." He cleared his throat. "John, you... you'll be alright, won't you?"

"I think so," said John. 

"You're... comfortable, and healing, and all that?"

"Yes."

"Good, good." Henry nodded yet again. For a moment he stood in awkward silence, then reached out and touched his son's shoulder as if it were a fragile artifact in danger of breaking. "John, I know I haven't been good to you while you were growing up," he said slowly. "And I won't try to make excuses, but you must understand... I only wanted what I thought was best for you. You're my oldest son and I love you very much. You know that, don't you?" 

"I know," said John. "That's why I went along with it and let you control me. Because I wanted to be loved." 

"Yes, and you are." Henry stepped closer eagerly, then wavered and glanced over at John's soulmates. "Though, not only by me, it seems." He drew a breath. "I know it's... unfair for me to ask this now, John. But could you somehow forgive me?"

There was a long pause, and then the artist nodded. "Yes," he said. "Yeah. I'll forgive you, Dad, because I'm a better man than you are."

Alexander smiled. He had never been more proud of John than he was right now. 

_Good for you._

"I think you should go now," said John quietly.

Henry nodded and, with tears in his eyes, turned to go. At the door, he turned back around and looked down at Alexander and Lafayette. 

"Take care of my boy," he said shakily. "He... he loves you both very much. Please make sure he's alright." 

"We will," said Lafayette. "We will do a much better job than you ever did."

Alexander nodded agreement. "Goodbye, Mr. Laurens." 

And Henry left without another word. 

 

Splitting from his father made John happy for the rest of the day, but by nightfall he was restless again. Alexander and Lafayette left before the door locked with the same promise they'd been making for over a week - to come back as soon as was possible. 

And yet as soon as Alexander had left, all he could think about was John. He was afraid that his soulmate would be lonely, or that he would suddenly go into worse condition, while he was away.  _You're being paranoid,_ he scolded himself, and went back to his room. He got out his laptop, which Eliza had brought over for him, and did some homework. Lafayette fell asleep right away, but Alexander found it impossible to sleep - and didn't even try. As he wrote, something pulsed in his brain telling him to go right back to his soulmate. 

Finally around ten thirty, he closed the laptop and went out the door.  _I'll just go down and check in on him, and then I'll come straight back._

The door to John's wing, right next to the one his room was in, was propped and not locked yet. Some of the rooms in this section were lit. There were still nurses on the floor, awake with patients.

 _Bad security,_ Alexander thought. He slipped in quietly and crept down the hall, knowing that he wasn't supposed to be here. But he had come this far. He might as well go the full way to John's window.

He quickened his pace as he heard footsteps on the end of the hall he had come from. If he got locked in here...

Suddenly he stopped as he noticed a figure huddled against the wall. Alexander glanced at the nearest room numbers. He was right near John's room... so did that mean...

"John?" said Alexander, and the person lifted his head. Sure enough, it was John, looking pale and weak. "What  are you doing here?"

"Hey, Alexander," said John weakly. Alexander knelt down by him.

"Are you crazy? You're not supposed to be outside of your room."

"Neither are you."

Alexander sighed. "Seriously, what were you thinking?"

"I couldn't sleep, so I unlocked the door." John lowered his head. "I thought if I walked around a little, maybe I would feel a better. And then my legs gave out." He huffed in annoyance. "I'm sick of just lying there. I wanted to be moving around."

Alexander rolled his eyes, but inside he understood. John was the kind of person who couldn't sit still for too long. If Alexander lost his ability to write somehow, he would certainly feel the same way. 

_This is much harder for him than we realize._

"Well, let's get you back before someone comes by." Alexander held out his hand and helped John up. "Come on, lean against me."

John winced as he put weight on his leg, but managed to almost-stand. Alexander half guided, half carried him back to his room, which, fortunately, hadn't locked behind him. John limped over to his bed and collapsed onto it, and Alexander closed the door.

"Thank you," John muttered. 

"You're welcome." Alexander watched out the window as most of the lights flickered out in the hallway. "Great. Now I'm going to have to call for Maria to come unlock the door to the wing." He sighed and went to close the curtains, which for some reason John had left open.

_Oh. Because he can't get up to close them._

"She's so gonna kill me," he muttered. At least each patient's room had a phone in it, so he could call down to the staff room. She would still be there, at least he hoped so...

"Hey Alex?" said John quietly. 

"Yeah?"

"Can you come here for a second?" 

Alexander glanced over at him and then let go of the curtains and went over to his soulmate's side. "Do you need something?"

John shook his head. "No. Just sit here with me for a minute." 

Unable to deny this simple request, Alexander sat down next to John and let his soulmate slump against him.

"You're really weak," he observed. "You know you shouldn't have been walking around." 

"I know," John mumbled from near Alexander's shoulder. He looked up. "Alexander, do you think I messed up today?"

"How?"

"By sending my dad away. It just feels wrong somehow." 

Alexander shook his head. "What? No! Of course not! You can't let him try to come back and ruin everything anymore. He doesn't want what's best for you, he wants what he thinks is best for you. Now you get to decide that for yourself." 

John still seemed unsure, so Alexander kept talking. 

"Fine, you want proof that he's all wrong?" He tilted John's head towards him. "He thought that I should get out of your life. He somehow thought that this was wrong, and if that's not proof that he is, I don't know what could be." 

John nodded slowly. "Yeah... You're right." He smiled a little. "As usual." 

Without another word he curled up and fell asleep. Alexander moved over into the chair next to the hospital bed and watched his soulmate sleep. The idea entered his head to call for Maria, but before he could even consider acting on it, his mind banished all thoughts and slumber snatched him. 

 

The next day, John had another visitor.

When Lafayette came into the hospital room, still half-asleep and not quite put together, he was not at all surprised to notice that Alexander was already there. He was surprised, however, at the presence of another guest. 

Martha Manning was sitting in the chair on the other side of John's bed - which was  _Lafayette's_ chair, he would have liked to point out - and staring down at the floor. 

_Oh no._

Okay, so the only time that Lafayette had actually seen Martha in person, if one wanted to be technical, was when she had slammed  _his_ soulmate up against a car and kissed him without asking permission first. He had heard plenty about her since then. Someone who would force a person as nice as John to date them had to be nasty. Besides, most people had never seen the president, and nearly everyone had an opinion on him. 

Alexander was still wearing his clothes from last night. Something told Lafayette he had slept in that chair, which was sort of cute but also not exactly what a dictionary would define as comfortable. 

Lafayette marched into the room and looked at the three people seated before him. " _Bonjour_. What is going on?"

"Hi, Laf," said John, and Lafayette started. He hadn't looked awake.

"Good morning, cheri." He kissed John on both cheeks. Martha the soulmate stealer gave no reaction to this. Lafayette tried to stare her down, wondering why she had come here, but she was staring at the floor still, so this proved impossible. He suppressed a huff and went to the other chair, and pushed Alexander out of this onto the bed so he could sit down. Everyone was awkwardly quiet for a moment, so he tried a new tactic. 

"Good morning, Miss Manning," he said. "To what do we owe this nice visit?"

Martha lifted her head. "Oh, hello." She extended a hand; he shook it stiffly. "I-I've just arrived."

"She heard about the crash from my dad," said John. 

"Right." She glanced over at him. "So, I've come to... to tell you something." 

"That you feel very bad for him?" Lafayette guessed.

"Laf, shut up," Alexander muttered. Lafayette glared at him, and Alexander held a finger to his lips. He just assumed that he could get whatever he wanted because he was cute. It was annoying and sadly true. 

"Well, yes, of course." Martha smiled sadly at John. "I also wanted to tell you that... that I found my soulmate." 

That wasn't what Lafayette had expected.

She kept going. "I went out for a walk after you..."

"After I dumped you," John offered. 

"Yes. I went walking a lot. And on one of them I met this guy who asked me what a pretty girl was doing all by herself." She laughed a little. "He's nice, he... he takes me out to eat a lot, he goes walking with me. We get along so well." 

John was smiling, and it made her smile in return. "Well enough to get engaged?"

Martha nodded to the ring on her hand. "Yes. We're both very happy." 

"That's great." John squeezed her hand quickly. "I'm really happy for you, Martha. You deserve that." 

She beamed, but then the smile faltered. "You know, you weren't so nice to me. But I realize now that you never really were interested to begin with." She flashed a glance at Alexander and Lafayette. "And I was... well, I was jealous of you two, and not kind about you. So I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too." John met her eyes. "I know I didn't treat you great. But I still am really happy for you, now." 

She smiled again. "Let's stay friends, then?" 

"I'd like that." 

They shook hands, and then she kissed him on the cheek. She shook hands with Alexander and Lafayette too, and Lafayette didn't try to pull his away. Martha went to the door, but then, just as Henry had, turned back around. 

"There's still one thing I don't understand, though," she said, her eyes flickering between the three of them. "You three. You're not lovers, but you're more than friends. But you're not brothers either. So what are you?"

"We're soulmates," said John simply. "There aren't really words for what we all are. We don't have a definition." He shrugged. "We have a complicated relationship." 

"Complicated in a good way?" ventured Lafayette. 

Alexander smiled over at him. "Complicated in the best way." 

Martha nodded, smiled one last time, and was gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry Laf is so salty... But like... come on, wouldn't you be if some random girl you didn't know kissed your soulmate and best friend and then showed up out of the blue? I would be.


	35. Moments That the Words Don't Reach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lafayette gets another terrible phone call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the last chapter was rushed and not all that great. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. *bows repeatedly* I shall redeem myself I swear. 
> 
> I know I also haven't been good at replying to comments lately, but because I get so many, if I reply it caused my comments count to skyrocket. I wish there was some way to make it so creator comments don't count and people viewing the summary of the fic could just see the legit actual number of comments... but oh well. What's a girl to do. Tell me if this new system works or not. I can go back to replying in the comments if you really want me too, or we can just agree that I'm not going to be replying as much. Or I can reply in the notes. Let me know!
> 
>  
> 
> Now enjoy some Laurette and Hamette to get your mind off of sadness. (Or right back into it...) This chapter is just Lafayette-glorifying with plenty of angsty fluff along the way. Everybody on board? Please keep your arms and limbs inside the walls. Lifeboats are nonexistent because there's no escaping. And... the ship has sailed!

Slowly, John began to heal. Maria took his bandages off on Sunday and on Tuesday unplugged all of the tubes and machines he was hooked up to. He still couldn't walk, however, and Maria told him not to try until the bone healed.

"But that could take weeks," John protested. 

"Well, at least you can wait out those weeks at home. If you do what I tell you to, we can get you some crutches and you could go home very soon. Till then, you're going to sit here and heal up."

She left, and John frowned. 

"I hate this." 

"Cheer up, at least we can go home soon." Alexander glanced up from his laptop. "And it's not like you're the first person with a broken leg, John."

John groaned and flopped back down onto his bed. "So? I'm sure they all hated it too."

"You sound like Alexander right now," Lafayette commented. John smirked.

"I'm not short enough to be Alexander."

Alexander just rolled his eyes. 

 

Though John was definitely healing, he kept trying to rush what needed time, and pushed his body to it's limits. When his soulmates left the room, he got up and forced himself to walk from the bed to the window. Just a few steps, just two or three steps, and then he would go back and lie down. No one needed to know. The first step wasn't too bad. He moved one leg forward and dragged the other behind it. _Okay,_  he thought, _I can do this._  Step, drag. He drew a breath, then stepped forward again -

Suddenly his leg gave out, and he collapsed forward. His leg was thrown out behind him, and he felt a searing pain across it, followed by blood slowly seeping out from the new wounds. The stitches - they must have ripped. John gasped and lay there for a moment, waiting for the pain to go down. He slowly pushed himself up, then collapsed forward again.

Somehow, he dragged himself over to the phone and called for Maria, who confirmed that yes, he had ripped his stitches. He would need to get them put back in and then wait around to start healing all over again. 

John wanted to scream. At this point, maybe it would be better off if he had just died. 

 

Alexander had to admit that he was getting bored, too. 

He left often to go to work, and a couple of times went to his classes as well. It was no surprise that his grades had plummeted. He began to stay up late doing overwhelming loads of homework and extra credit, trying to fix them. This obviously annoyed Lafayette, but he didn't complain, even if the lights all being on made it harder for him to sleep. 

Lafayette. He was taking this all so well. If he hadn't been there when John was still in that coma, back when everything had seemed impossibly dark, Alexander wasn't sure he would even be alive right now. Now that things were looking better, he had every right to complain about trivial things - Alexander knew that he certainly had done so. But Lafayette didn't. When Alexander took out his textbooks and flicked on the lights, his soulmate just rolled over and pulled a pillow over his head to block it out. Not a word of protest escaped him. Alexander told him he could build a barricade when they got back to the apartment, in an attempt to make it up to him. 

They all wanted to go back, back to the apartment with the mismatched floors and the taps without handles, that they had made their home. Alexander had taken so much for granted before the crash. The future had seemed guaranteed, like the sunrises they collected. Now he understood how quickly anything could change. And, it would change. That was the new certainty he would live by. 

 

Lafayette's phone rang.

He fished it out of his pocket and glanced at John. "I'm going to take this call,  _oui?_ I will be right back."

"Okay, go ahead," said John. Lafayette smiled and stepped outside of the room, into the hall. 

" _Bonjour_?" he said. It was a long distance number, from France, but not his grandmother's. Which was a bit strange. 

" _Es vous_ _Gilbert Lafayette_ "

" _Oui. C’est de la part de qui _?"__

They told him.

He almost dropped the phone. 

 

Alexander looked up as Lafayette came back into the room. He was startled to see tears on his soulmate's face. 

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, jumping up. John tried to rise but then fell back. "Laf?" Alexander grabbed his soulmate by his arms; Lafayette stared at the floor crying silently. 

"It was a call from France," he said quietly. "From a hospital. My grandmother, she... she had a stroke." 

Alexander tensed. "Oh no," he whispered. "That's... that's terrible. I'm so sorry." 

Lafayette nodded, and Alexander searched for something to say.

"Is she... okay?" he asked, and then realized how stupid that sounded. 

"She's alive, but not doing well." He walked over to the bed and sat down in silence for a moment, seeming to be thinking. Alexander sat down on his other side and watched him, studying his face. He glanced over at John over the top of their soulmate's head, and he looked concerned too. They both took his hands, but he didn't even seem to notice. Finally, Lafayette drew a shaky breath. 

"I have decided," he said slowly, "that I am not going to fly out."

"What?" asked John. "That's crazy! She could die! Don't you want to be there?" 

"Yes, but it has happened before." Lafayette twisted the blanket in his fingers. "She has always been fine before." 

"Lafayette, you're insane. Go get on a plane right now -"

"No," said Lafayette softly. "You just got hurt, John. You got _worse_. And she could be fine. She probably will be fine." He grabbed John's hand. "I do not trust you here alone. What if you get worse, like last week? Without me, you are sure to do something stupid and mess up your stitches again."

"He'll be fine," said Alexander. "You can really -"

"NO." Lafayette insisted. "I am not leaving." He turned to John. "I'm staying because you need me. And besides, what do I do if I fly out there and then..." He gulped. "And then I'm too late?" he whispered. 

John's fingers on his tightened. "So let me get this straight. You're staying with me because you're worried I'll be hurt again if you don't?"

" _Oui_ , because I am needed here." He sighed. "And because for all I know, I could go there and have it be for nothing."

John and Alexander watched as he wiped away his tears and put on the smile they both adored. _How_ does _he do that?_ He was always smiling, even when things were at their very worst.

John seemed to be on the verge of tears. With some of his last strength, he crawled over to Lafayette and then collapsed with his head in his soulmate's lap. 

"Thank you," he sighed. 

Lafayette smiled again. "Do not worry," he said gently. "I'm staying right here." He stroked John's hair and whispered, "I love you, John Laurens." 

John closed his eyes. They stayed there like that for a while, as the light slowly faded out of the room. Alexander wondered if he should leave them together. Eventually, though, Lafayette lifted John's head and laid him back down on his pillow. 

"I'm going to call the hospital and get some more information," he said gently. "You need to sleep now." 

John nodded. Lafayette glanced at Alexander. 

"Stay with him?"

"Of course I will."

"Good." Lafayette smiled. " _Bonne nuit, mon cheri._ "

He slipped out of the room with his phone in hand.

"He's right," Alexander said quietly. "You really do need to just heal."

"He's always right."

Alexander smiled. "Yeah." He glanced out the window of the door, where their soulmate was pacing in the hallway with the phone against his ear. "Yeah, he is."

 

Lafayette's grandmother died that night.

When the phone rang, he was still awake, having stayed up just in case. Alexander watched him as he answered . After it was over, he already knew what had been said. He asked if Lafayette wanted to talk, to which the boy replied no, that he just needed to be alone.

He left for over an hour. Alexander tried to do homework, but found his mind stuck on his soulmate, worrying for him. It was cold outside. He could catch the flu or pneumonia.. 

When the rain started to pound against the windows, Alexander got up to go find Lafayette, but before he could even get his shoes on, the door opened and his soulmate came back in, his hair dappled with mist and his eyes still filled with tears. Alexander started to stand, but before he could rise fully his soulmate flew across the room and threw his arms around Alexander's neck, sobbing into his shoulder. Alexander held onto him and let him cry, rubbing his back in soothing circles and trying to comfort him somehow. 

"Alexander, I have something -" Lafayette gasped, trying to catch his breath through his tears, and then finished, "Something to tell you."

"Okay," said Alexander softly. "Okay, what is it?" 

Lafayette started to stammer something inaudible, then began sobbing again. "No, I can't." 

"Okay." 

So Alexander held him closer and stroked his hair, not even bothering to search for words. Words were useless at a time like this. He did briefly let go of Lafayette to grab a blanket and put it around his shoulders, noticing that his soulmate was shivering. He leaned back against the propped-up pillows, letting his soulmate curl against him as he wept. Eventually Lafayette's sobs faded down into slow tears, and then into silence as he cried himself to sleep into Alexander's arms. 

Alexander pressed a kiss onto his forehead, wrapped his arms tighter around him, and didn't let go. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phone conversation:
> 
> Laf: Hello?  
> Person: Is this Gilbert Lafayette?  
> Laf: Yes. Who's calling, please?
> 
> Bonne nuit mon cheri - good night my dearest/sweetheart
> 
>  
> 
> I'm sorry that all the affection is so physical... but... I mean... it's so cute... and his grandmother just died... so...


	36. Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Laurens is going home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to anyone who received an email saying I had updated - I clicked "Post" before I was finished with the chapter by mistake. My bad. 
> 
>  
> 
> Now I also have an ANNOUNCEMENT. Please read this because it's really important.  
> Nothing in this world can last forever, and this fanfiction is something in this world. So, it is going to come to an end in five chapters - Chapter 40 is the finale of "Destiny Put Us All in One Spot". Yes, I am going to tie up all my dangling plot lines. I know how I'm going to do this and where I'm going for the time I'm still here. Luckily, these last five chapters are going to be long so everything won't end in a hurry and we can hold on to this beautiful relationship a little longer - I love writing these three and I really hope you enjoy reading it. So please, if you haven't bookmarked, suggested to friends, or whatever you want to do, now is your chance before this amazing journey I've taken ends and I fade back into obscurity after my few months in the sun. I love you. There is so much love in this chapter. Please enjoy it.

When Lafayette and Alexander woke up, Alexander expected his soulmate to be crying again. Instead, he smiled. It was a sad smile, but it was genuine, one of those smiles that he gave often which lit up the whole room in a single instant. 

"Good morning, Alexander."

"Morning," said Alexander. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine." Lafayette sat up and twisted his hair back, securing a ponytail holder around it a few times.

"Hey," said Alexander. "Do you want to... talk? About last night?"

He shook his head. "No. She's..." He swallowed, as if trying to clear the words that had to follow from his mouth rather than let them escape. Then he finished: "She's... dead now, and talking won't bring her back." 

"...what was it you wanted to tell me?" Alexander ventured.

Lafayette shook his head again, more fiercely this time. "I can't. I can't think about it." He seemed on the verge of tears again, but he wiped at his eyes and then crawled out of bed. "We should go check on John." He glanced back at Alexander. "I'm going to go get some breakfast. Be ready by the time I come back?"

Alexander nodded, and Lafayette left. 

"Well, I've got some good news," said Maria, "which I think you can all use." 

She glanced around at the three forlorn faces before her. So John Laurens wasn't entirely ready to go home, and they would usually keep patients for longer, but why did that matter? Sitting around here was no different than at his home, and besides, she knew he wanted to go back, and Lafayette was down as well. It was so sad about his grandmother, especially right after the shock of his soulmate getting into a car crash. Perhaps that shock had worn off a little after two weeks, though. She had told him "I'm sorry for your loss", but the words felt empty. She needed some sort of action to back them.

So Maria negotiated and bartered and begged and eventually pleaded with her superiors for John to be released. And they agreed. 

Now she flipped open the long box she had brought into the room and took out the two crutches in it, laying them across the bed. John glanced at them and then back at her. 

"So?"

"So you can try these out and then go home." 

He gaped at her, and she smiled. Alexander glanced between them.

"Doesn't he have to learn how to use them before he can just go home?" 

Maria tossed her hair in fake haughtiness. "I pulled some strings for you." She shrugged. "Actually, I guess I cut the strings. I'm breaking a bunch of rules, but they're letting me."

"Pretty perks?" offered Lafayette.

John nudged his shoulder. "I bet you know all about those." He turned back to the crutches. "So I can just... try them?"

"Go ahead." 

She stepped back as his soulmates moved to help him stand, and he waved them off. Carefully, he picked up the crutches and positioned them under his arms, muttering, "I feel stupid", before taking a few hops around the room. Alexander and Lafayette seemed to be struggling not to laugh, and he glared at them as he made his way to the other wall and back. 

"Well?" he asked, returning. Maria smiled. 

"Good to go." She inclined her head towards the door. "Head on down to the hall. Tell them I sent you, and they'll sign you out."

All three of them cheered. John said, "Finally!" and swung himself towards the door, and Lafayette pulled it open. Alexander followed, but Maria called him back. The other two hesitated, but he waved them on. 

"Go ahead, I'll just be a minute." 

They continued down the hall, and Alexander turned to face Maria. She bent down and started stripping the sheets off the bed, speaking to him over her shoulder.

"Under no circumstances are you to let him walk around," she said. "He is to use those crutches or stay stationary."

"Okay." He stepped closer. "Hey, listen - thanks so much. You've been a great help to us. You probably saved his life." 

She shrugged, pleased but trying to hide it. "You're very welcome. I just wanted to do my job."

"Is there any way I can repay you?"

Maria straightened up and turned to face him, raising one eyebrow. "You doing anything Saturday night?"

He flushed. "Um..." 

She giggled a little, and then stopped. She couldn't remember the last time she had giggled. She placed a hand against Alexander's shoulder. 

"I doubt we will ever see each other again," she said.

He nodded and gave a quick smile. "Well, if I ever need a nurse, I um... I know where to find you...?"

"Exactly."

"Well, thanks again."

"It was my pleasure."

They shook hands, and she pushed him towards the door. As he was leaving, she mused, "You know, Alexander..." and he turned.

"Yes?"

Maria smiled mischievously.

"If things had gone differently, I think we could have gotten into a lot of trouble together."

Alexander laughed awkwardly, and an instant later was out the door and down the hall. 

They went home. 

It took some work getting John into the car, as he became nervous when seeing it. Lafayette drove and Alexander sat in the back with John, keeping him calm and reassuring him that they were not going to get into a crash. They went slowly and on the least busy roads they could find - though New York didn't have too many of those to offer. 

The apartment looked exactly the same as it had when they left it, only cleaner. The dishes that had been unwashed were now done, and the floor was vacuumed. This was explained by a note on the door reading

"Welcome home. 

-E."

Alexander glanced over at both soulmates, who smiled. The three looked around their home in a sort of reverence, as if afraid to speak and disturb dust that was no longer there. Alexander had almost forgotten what it looked like. 

The clothes that had been strewn across the floor of his room were now neatly folded on top of his dresser - another of Eliza's contributions. Alexander wondered when she had come and tidied up, leaving the note - probably as soon as she was able to. John's room had already been clean, so nothing there was changed. Frances had food and water and was asleep in a corner of the cage. 

John looked around at everything as if seeing it for the first time. After the initial reverence wore off, they all sat around just talking for hours, saying things they'd already said a million times just as an excuse to hear each other's voices. Finally they fell quietly into their usual routine for the rest of the evening - sketching, writing, reading, until long after the sun went down. Then Lafayette went into John's room, where his soulmate was drawing, and sat down next to him.

"What are you drawing?" he asked.

"The crash," said John quietly. Lafayette studied the paper and noticed the thin lines suggesting broken glass, and the faint outline of two people seeming reflected in the shards. Behind them was a truck that seemed frozen in motion. Lafayette shook his head.

"I still do not know how you do that."

John shrugged. Lafayette watched him until he finished the sketch, then caught him by the hand.

"Let's do something."

"Like what?"

Lafayette thought for a minute, then smiled and stood up. "Let's watch Les Mis!"

"Oh." John considered this, then remembered that Lafayette's grandmother had died and anything to make him happy would be worth it. "Yeah, sure we can watch Les Mis. Let's take over Alex's room."

"Good idea." Lafayette practically bounced out the door and off to his own room to get the DVD, and John swung himself on the crutches into the writer's bedroom. Alexander looked up as he came in.

"Hey," he said, setting his laptop aside. He held out his hands and helped John to sit down. "You need something?" 

"Yeah, you have to turn the laptop off," said John. "Laf's issued an executive order."

"I'm going to guess it has something to do with Les Mis."

"Give me the laptop, we are watching Les Mis," announced Lafayette, sailing into the room with the DVD brandished like a shield. He jumped up onto Alexander's bed and snatched the laptop. Alexander just shrugged and laid back.

"I'm sleeping. Good night."

"No," said Lafayette firmly, tugging on his arm, "you are not sleeping. You are watching this movie with me and John. And you are going to enjoy it," he added as a threat.

Alexander hesitated. 

"Please, Alexander?"

Alexander covered his eyes. "Stop, when you do that it's just unfair..."

Lafayette pulled Alexander's hands off of his eyes and looked into them sadly, nestling his head against Alexander's shoulder. "Please Alex? Please watch this movie? For me?"

"Okay, fine..."

"You're so weak, Alexander," John commented. Alexander threw a pillow at him. 

"Hey!"

"You deserved that."

John grabbed the pillow and hit back, trying to knock Alexander off the bed with it. Alexander grabbed his other pillow to defend himself. Lafayette sat calmly in the midst of the turmoil setting up the movie in the DVD tray. 

"Calm down, girls."

Alexander hit him with the pillow too, and he just pushed it away.

"It is Les Mis time. Everything else is invalid." 

So they spent three and a half hours curled up on Alexander's bed watching Les Miserables. Lafayette kept pausing it to comment on something, but immediately shushed his soulmates if either of them so much as whispered. Alexander found that he didn't mind. It was kind of nice, actually, just to be there with them, rather than in a hospital room with one of them unconscious and the other trying to hold him together to keep him from breaking like the glass of John's windshield. Eventually as the hours passed and the movie progressed - not helped by their soulmate's continued remarks that slowed it down - John started to fall asleep with his head against Alexander's shoulder. He was woken up almost immediately by the blaring music in one of the songs, though, and rolled his eyes with a smile on his face. 

Finally they made it through the movie. Lafayette cried for ten minutes straight at the death of someone who was apparently the main character - Alexander barely paid the story any mind. He did wonder if that was the only reason why Lafayette was crying, though. Eventually their soulmate wiped his tears on John's sweater and smiled. 

"Thank you."

"For tolerating the movie? You're welcome," said Alexander.

"Not helpful." Lafayette closed his eyes, then opened them again. "I'm not tired. What time is it?"

John looked over at the clock next to Alexander's bed. "Four fifty." He sighed. "I feel like this should be one of our sunrise days. But..." He gestured to the crutches on the floor. 

Lafayette stood up, looking thoughtful. "Do you want to watch the sun rise, cheri?"

"Yeah. A lot."

"We can watch it from your window," Alexander suggested.

"Non, that is not the same. He needs to see it from the roof."

Alexander and Lafayette glanced at each other and smiled.

"What?" asked John, suddenly concerned. "What are you plot- hey!" 

For Lafayette swept the artist off his feet and into his arms.

"Oh no," said John. "No no no. You are not going to carry me up the fire escape."

"Relax," said Alexander, as they exited the room and went over to the window leading to the escape. He pulled it open, grabbed the flashlight they kept next to it, and ducked out. "You said you want to go to the roof. We get you onto the roof."

"Yeah, and Laf drops me and breaks my spine in the process?" 

"I will not drop you," said Lafayette, cradling John against him with one arm under his legs and the other behind his shoulders. "You are very safe."

John gulped as he glanced down at the metal platform as Lafayette ducked out of the window and onto this. His soulmate was tall, so a fall would not be fun. They started up the stairs and John squeezed his eyes shut. He'd already been hurt badly and then just gotten out of the hospital. He didn't want to go right back. 

Lafayette stroked his arm a little. "It's alright," he murmured in gentle French. "Don't worry, beautiful. I've got you." 

John relaxed somewhat, though he was still slightly nervous. His soulmate carried him up the fire escape, following Alexander's flashlight beam. The world was still dark, cars rattling by occasionally in the street below. John closed his eyes, trying to calm down completely, and then opened them again as Lafayette stopped.

"Oh no," he heard Alexander saying.

"What?" asked John. 

"We forgot there was a ladder..."

John rolled his eyes. Lafayette set him down, though he kept his arms around him so John wouldn't stumble. "Great." He sighed. "Really great."

"Don't worry though, I think we can work with this." Alexander tossed the flashlight to Lafayette and then climbed up the ladder. He knelt at the top and held out his hands. "Okay, John -"

"If you think you are dragging me up there you're sadly mistaken."

"Just go onto the ladder and climb as high as you can without using your bad leg. I'll get you up the rest of the way." 

John hesitated. 

"If you fall, I will catch you," said Lafayette. 

"Okay, fine." John leaned on his soulmate and reached up for a rung. He dragged himself up, putting all the weight on his good leg, and then pushed off of that enough to grab Alexander's warm, callused hands reaching for his. The writer dragged him up onto the roof, and John collapsed forward, knocking Alexander down in the process. Lafayette swung up gracefully a moment later and raised an eyebrow.

"I thought we came up here because we were not going to sleep tonight."

"It's not night anymore," said Alexander, trying to retain dignity in spite of the fact that he was lying on the roof with his soulmate across his stomach. "And - um - this is John's fault, so."

"Why are you blaming this on me? You're the one who didn't catch me."

"Are you going to move?"

"Nah, I'm kind of comfortable."

Alexander rolled his eyes.

"Hmm." Lafayette shrugged and sat down next to them, then lay back so his head rested against John's chest.  His breath misted in the air as he whispered, "It's so quiet."

Alexander nodded and looked around as best he could from his position. All the towering buildings of New York City were tall but still, unlit, appearing to be just chunks of the stone and metal they had come from rather than testimonies to human creation. People were asleep, or awake and on their way to early jobs, or awake and doing God knew what. So few of them even knew who he was, and of that small number, who would guess that he was here? Here, lying on the roof with his two soulmates, waiting for the sky to come alive.

John spoke suddenly, taking Alexander from his thoughts. "Thank you," he said. "For getting me up here. I'm really grateful."

"You're welcome," said Alexander and Lafayette together. 

"We wanted to be here just as much as you did," Alexander said. 

" _Oui,_ but without you the sunrise is not as beautiful," Lafayette added. Alexander glanced over at him and confirmed that he was smiling. Somehow, though Alexander could only imagine what his soulmate was going through, he was smiling anyway. 

John smiled as well and closed his eyes. Alexander ran his fingers through his hair. "I love you," John said. "Both of you. So much." 

"We love you too."

They fell back into one of the comfortable silences that was not uncommon for them, the kind where they said nothing and let that nothing explain everything. And they were both close, right there with him rather than out of reach. Alexander watched what felt like their thousandth sunrise, their thousandth morning together, as it spread across the sky and lit them up. They lay there, on the roof, together, until long after the grey had faded into orange and the orange had faded into the color that tinged John's eyes. 

 

Washington stood up as the writer entered the room and shook his hand, smiling. "Good to have you back, Alexander!" he said. He clapped a hand on Alexander's shoulder. "We've all missed you here. Even Thomas."

Jefferson, slung over a chair nearby, shook his head at this statement. "I did not miss you at all."

"Your soulmate is healing?" asked the editor, ignoring his other reporter.

"Very well, sir."

"Excellent! Well, tell him I hope he'll be on his feet again soon." Washington chuckled a little at his own joke, then beckoned Alexander over to the computer at his desk. "Alexander, our head of marketing came across your name while she was doing her research. She found some very interesting things."

"Ugh, here we go again," muttered Jefferson.

"I've already shown Thomas." Washington pulled up a page full of Twitter feed. "These are all at you. I think you'll be quite flattered."

Alexander took the mouse and scrolled through the feed, wondering what he would see. Sure enough, all the tweets were sent to him, and with each one his heart sped up a little.  

"@AlexanderHamilton - dude your essay is amazing thanks so much"

"Who is this kid the #Post got their hands on? @AlexanderHamilton @nypost"

"@AlexanderHamilton thx so much your work changed my life #Thankyou"

_Changed their life..._

"You opened my eyes @AlexanderHamilton. #Thankyouthankyouthankyou"

_They're thanking me._

"People the @nypost just got 10x better by hiring @AlexanderHamilton"

"@AlexanderHamilton is one to watch"

Alexander blinked a few times. This couldn't possibly be real. These people were talking about someone else. Two weeks ago he had been a no one, with a few things published in the post, and now suddenly he had people thanking him for changing their lives.

_That happened fast..._

"@AlexanderHamilton is amazing. Have you read this?! #Wow"

"Ah, this one's good," remarked Washington, pointing. Alexander heard a snort behind him, confirming that Jefferson had come over. 

"@AlexanderHamilton is the best writer since @TJefferson"

"I'm still far superior thank you," muttered the other reporter, and then they both froze as they read the next tweet.

"@AlexanderHamilton and @TJefferson are saving the @nypost they should be together lol"

"Whaaaa..." Jefferson stammered.

Someone replied to this comment with, "DUDE I SHIP IT". A quick google search to find the meaning of this phrase confirmed Alexander's suspicion that he loathed the internet.

"Well I guess I need to destroy some people," muttered Jefferson, and he left. Alexander rolled his eyes. Some things would never change.

He was praised, he was... he was going viral. 

He was being recognized. He was being heard. 

"Alexander," said Washington, guiding his attention back to the screen. "Read this one."

"@AlexanderHamilton, my whole town burned down after a forest fire. Please give me your words in this darkness". 

"They need you, Alexander," said Washington. 

_They need me._

Without another word, Alexander picked up his laptop and wrote. 

 

Thomas stormed out of the door to Washington's office and down to his own, cursing himself. He'd had a chance to get Alexander Hamilton fired and he hadn't taken it. No, he had to go all sentimental and show the part of him that was still broken. He glanced down at his covered wrist and then marched on, furious but trying to hide it. Just like he had hidden the part of him that was broken and gone, shown by a line across his wrist, taunting him, looking almost like a guide...

Slowly but surely, this young upstart kid was stealing his job. But hey, maybe at last a little competition would prove to be good thing.

There was just one thing that seemed truly unfair. Alexander could steal his job and he could complain all he wanted, but in the end, if Alexander was a better writer, that was just fair.

Yet Fate or Destiny or whatever had given Alexander two people, soulmates or friends or whatever they were to him, to encourage him and cheer him on. And Thomas had no one.

He stopped outside of his office as he noticed a young man sitting in one of the chairs. Thomas raised an eyebrow. The only people who ever waited outside of his office were colleagues or people hoping to buy him out. But something told him this man was neither. Suppressing a sigh, Thomas strode up to him. 

"Can I help you?"

The man jumped and then started coughing. "Sorry," he wheezed. "Um, I'm James Madison, I'm here for a job interview."

"Yeah well you came to the wrong place. I'm not the editor."

James Madison flushed. "S-sorry." He began coughing again. Thomas couldn't help but feel a little sympathetic. 

"Well why don't you wait here until the general's ready. He'll be down here later on."

Relief washed over the man's face. "Thanks. Oh - what's your name?"

"Thomas Jefferson," Thomas said, and extended a hand. James shook it, and as he did Thomas glanced down at his wrist. 

He also had a line across his wrist. A thin, black line extending from one side of his wrist to the other, across the veins there. It was the same length as Thomas's - same shade, same length, same width. Identical, almost like...

...a soulmark...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interpret that however you want. ;p You can make it romantic, you can make it platonic, you can take it to mean that James is Thomas's new soulmate, that they're not soulmates but they're going to act like it, or that there's some important time space rip that the death of their soulmates allowed them to be soulmates or whatever. Seriously. Do whatever you want. I just wanted to give Jemmy J a cameo and let Jefferson have some closure.
> 
> So long, Jeff. It was fun working with you.


	37. When You're Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lafayette finally manages to tell his soulmates what he's been meaning to for three days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are all the best readers in the world. I love you. Please continue to love me.

Lafayette tossed and turned, tears streaming down his face. 

After his grandmother died, life sped up and spun around so fast, with so many things happening, that the grief hadn't really consumed him yet. John had gone home and then he'd stayed up all night, and then gone to King's and driven Alexander to work, and then dealt with the effects of his soulmate suddenly going viral. (Mainly that meant that all three of their social medias were now being stalked, though Lafayette barely used his to begin with.) 

And then tonight came, and he was suddenly face-to-face with an enormous wall of grief that felt like it was slamming into him. 

It was horrible. 

He sobbed and sobbed into his pillow, and for the first time in so long, he cried all alone.

Lafayette had lost count of the number of times he had cried in the past few months, what with Henry Laurens being cruel to John, and then John getting into a car crash. And THEN all the long flood of fear and emotion that had followed. He was fairly sure that some of his hair had gone grey from the stress of waiting for his soulmate to wake up. 

They had gotten through that, and now this.

And on top of the fact that she was dead, which was horrible enough, there was...

Lafayette squeezed his eyes shut tight. There were only a few more days, and he'd been hiding this for months and months. Something told him that John already knew part of the story - at least, John seemed to know that his parents were rich and had died in a car crash. He wondered if Alexander knew. Oh well, what did it matter? Neither of them knew what he had to tell them now. 

He couldn't cope with this. He couldn't. This was too much for one person to handle. This was too much for one person to lose. 

He was hyperventilating now, sitting up and gasping for breath through his tears, feeling so abandoned and alone. And then the door burst open. 

"Lafayette?" 

It was John's voice. A moment later, the light flicked on. He covered his eyes - Alexander's voice said "Sorry, sorry," and the light turned off, replaced a moment later by the lamp next to his bed.

"We heard you crying. Are you okay?" asked John, a moment before taking in the tear tracks running along his face. "Hey, what's wrong?" 

Lafayette shook his head. "N-nothing, I'm okay. Just please go back to bed." He didn't want to bother them, he didn't want to be even more of a burden than he was about to become...

"No, you're not okay," said Alexander, sitting down next to him. John swung himself over, leaned the crutches against the wall, and crawled up on his other side. Alexander rubbed his back, and John held his hand. "Come on, tell us what's the matter. Is it your grandmother?"

Lafayette made a motion with his head that was somewhere in between a nod and a shake. 

"Is that a yes?" asked John. "Hey - come here." 

He let Lafayette collapse against him and caught him in his arms. Alexander moved closer and wrapped his arms around Lafayette as well, and they both held onto him while he sobbed, half-screaming into John's shirt. 

"It's okay, it's okay," said Alexander over and over again. "It's okay, shh..." 

He stayed there, leaning against them, sobbing and sobbing. A few times, he tried to speak and tell them what he really had to just get out... but... he just couldn't. 

He stayed there and let them hold him. 

"Please stay with me?" he whispered.

Alexander stroked his hair. "We were never going to leave."

 

Alexander's soulmate sat on the couch, staring at the floor. He had cried himself out last night, so there were no tears right now. 

Lafayette's hair was a mess, the curls tangled up around his face. John was trying to comb it out and get it back into the ponytail at the back of his head, but he didn't seem to be making much headway. 

Last night he had just cried and cried. This morning, he had said he needed to tell them something.  Now, he seemed to be searching for words. 

Finally he lifted his big brown eyes from the floor and locked them on Alexander's. Alexander smiled sadly. Lafayette tried to smile back and then seemed to find he couldn't. 

"There," said John, startling both of them. He had wrangled the curls into a ponytail holder and gotten them somewhat neat. "That's... sort of better."

"Thank you," mumbled Lafayette.

"You're welcome." John kissed him on his forehead. "So, are you going to tell us whatever it is now?"

Lafayette nodded and stared back down at the floor. "I'm..." He swallowed hard. 

This was the moment Lafayette had been dreading since he met his soulmates. The moment he knew was coming, but had thought could be put off for years.  

Alexander and John both had their beautiful eyes trained on his face. He swallowed again and then whispered, 

"I'm leaving."

"For the funeral?" asked Alexander instantly. 

He hesitated. "Y-yes," Lafayette stammered, "but then... then I am staying."

"Staying where?" asked John. "You're going to stay in France for a while after the funeral?"

"No, not for a while." Why couldn't they understand? This was making it so much worse... "I am staying in France for keeps."

Alexander and John were silent for a moment, then Alexander ventured -

"You mean, you're moving to France?"

Lafayette squeezed his eyes shut. "Yes."

"I don't understand," said John. "How long are you going for? When are you coming back?"

"I'm not coming back," Lafayette whispered. 

That was it. That was what he had been trying to say for days - actually for months, and now that he had said it, they didn't even understand. 

"But that's crazy! Of course you're coming back!" exclaimed Alexander. "Lafayette, you're really confused, I think you should go lie down -"

"NO," he half-yelled. He gasped, trying to catch his breath and his words. "I-I'll explain." He drew a breath and then lifted his head. They were both staring at him. "Can you - can you come here?" he said quietly. They both sat down, on either side of him. He took their hands, closed his eyes, and started talking.

"My father was a very smart man who started an insurance business after he left from graduate school. Because he was smart, the business took off and soon he had very many employees. He hired smart people to work for him, especially in his management. And that was how he met his soulmate, Marie. They got married, and I was born less than a year later." 

Holding Alexander's hand, he guided the writer's arm around his shoulders.

"When I was two years old, he and my mother were on their way to a business meeting. Then -"

"They died in a car crash," said John quietly.

So he did know. Well, Lafayette wasn't all that surprised, though he did wonder how.

"Yes. My parents' will was very complicated, but it said that they both died before his mother, she was to raise me and take over the company. Until I was old enough. You see, much of his money was tied up in the company, but they both left almost all of their personal money to me. Then, my grandmother would take care of me, until one of two things happen. I was to take over the company and the money it came with either when she died or when I graduated from college. Whatever happened first.

"But the company is failing. She did not know how to run it, and the money started to run out. A lot of the workers quit, but many of them had their lives tied up in it. Five thousand people. And they had no other way to make money, so they stayed or went homeless. She tried to fix things, but it was just a downhill slope and the more she worked the worse she got. She sent me here for college, rather than making me stay in France like she wanted me to. In the end we thought it was better. So with the little bit of money she had left from them, she sent me here.

"In France, I had looked everywhere for my soulmates. Once I got to America, I just sort of... well, I guess I sort of stopped looking because I was afraid that they would be American and I wouldn't get to stay with them." He glanced up at both of them. "Then I found you. And then I loved you. And then I realized that there was no going back and one day I was going to have to leave.

"But I figured, why should I worry about that now? After all, I had, or thought I had, three years left with you before it would be an issue. And I wanted to save up all the time that I could with you, while I am still here. So I led you on and I made the memories. I cried sometimes to think that one day I would have to live without you. But I didn't... I didn't think it was going to be so soon."

He drew a deep breath.

"So now, I own the company. Like John said when he hacked my bank account, the rest of my money has run out. And the money I just got from them is mostly tied to the company. My grandmother left me just enough to get me back to France. And my parent's will states that if I do not take the company, it will dissolve. Thousands of people will lose their jobs. So I must..." He gulped. "I must go to France and lose you."

They both were still staring at him, he knew. He could feel the stares boring into his soul, but he couldn't look at them. 

"I don't understand," said John at length. "You knew? All along, you knew you would have to leave? And you didn't tell us?"

Lafayette nodded. "I didn't want to... to hurt you."

"You didn't think it would hurt us more if something like this happened?" asked Alexander, pulling his arm off of Lafayette. His voice was harsh, and Lafayette flinched. "Which, it has, now?" He shook his head. "I can't believe you would do that to us. That was pretty messed-up, Laf."

Lafayette burst into tears. 

"Nice job, Alex," said John quietly.

"Oh man, I didn't mean it." Alexander wrapped his arm around Lafayette again. "Hey, I'm sorry." He sighed. "Look, you know I love you. I'm just... I'm just really surprised. I thought you were better than that." 

"I'm sorry," Lafayette whimpered. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Shh, it's not your fault," said John. "Just - why didn't you tell us?"

Lafayette hid his face in Alexander's neck.

"Okay, okay." John pushed his hair out of his eyes. "Then... do you know when you have to leave?"

Lafayette let out a small sob. "Friday."

" _Friday?!_ " asked both of his soulmates. 

"But it's Wednesday now," Alexander realized. 

Lafayette nodded mutely. 

They both looked at him, at each other, disbelieving. 

"Two days," said John quietly. He looked back down at Lafayette. "You're leaving us in  _two days_?"

"I have to," Lafayette sobbed. "I don't have a choice."

"This is asinine!" exploded Alexander, grabbing Lafayette by his shoulders. "They can't force you to leave for some stupid company. You can say no."

"I'll make five thousand people homeless if I do."

"Then you can sell it - or turn it down - or give ownership to someone else - stop shaking your head, we're going to figure this out, just listen to me! You can go to France and sell it and then come back - you can do something..."

"Alexander," said John.

"There has to be something you can do so you can stay here," said Alexander, growing desperate. "You don't - you don't have to leave. You can stay with us."

" _Alexander._ " 

He ignored John, ignored the shakings of Lafayette's head. His world was unraveling, and he was uselessly trying to fix it. 

"You can do something," he said. "Just stay. Please say you won't leave, please, please..."

He shouted and screamed and pleaded, desperate for anything that could make it so Lafayette could stay. His soulmate was in hysterics. John tried to get both of them to calm down - Alexander could tell he was making the freshman more upset every time he opened his mouth, but he kept begging anyway. 

Finally, having exhausted every word he could think of, he started to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to make it longer, but I couldn't think of anything. And by the way, I know there are still other things that could happen - trust me, I've thought of them and figured out answers. I just don't want to dump them all on you at once.


	38. Without You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The three soulmates decide to make every last moment last before they're parted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry I didn't post yesterday. "Alex & Eliza" came in from the library and I decided to binge read. (It was not worth it. It was awful. My son John was flirting with girls, my son Laf was in two scenes, and my girl Eliza was a major Mary Sue. But I digress.) Unfortunately, I will NOT be posting for the rest of this week as I have to take time off from fanfictioning to study. So I will see you all again probably on next Wednesday - and I won't be able to answer comments either. I'm really going to miss you all. I love you. 
> 
> As you can tell I am full of showtunes quotes today. This is the second "In the Heights" referenced chapter title in a row, and then I put "Wicked" in the summary. This is how I have to live. It's not up to me, just let me be...  
> (There's the third reference).
> 
> Smile, you are awesome. And happy (late) Easter, everyone! Hope that God blessed your day, cause I'm about to ruin it! *runs away screaming* *comes back briefly* Warning: Overwhelming amount of fluffy angst, too many forehead kisses, and tons of affection about to follow. If you're not crying by the end of Chapter 40 I have failed as a writer.

Alexander slapped away his tears and demanded a copy of the will. 

Lafayette dragged one out of the depths of his email and printed out three copies, and the three of them spent hours with papers sprawled out across the table, reading and re-reading every line to try and determine a way out. Alexander walked down to the library and returned with enormous law tomes, and they searched through these as well, even though Lafayette said exhaustedly that he had already looked for any loophole and had been doing so for sixteen years. 

John kept highlighting passages and looking up the reasons for them in the law books, but was always disappointed. He glanced over at Lafayette to confirm that his soulmate was still looking, though he had his hands buried in his hair, tears running quietly down his face and onto the paper. John reached over and wiped them away. He wanted to assure the freshman that it would be okay, that they would find something - but wasn't that a lie? It seemed to become one more and more every time he re-read the lines he had begun to memorize. 

Finally, Alexander swore and tossed his pencil across the page. 

"There's nothing," he said. "There's no way around it."

Lafayette and John looked over at him. He rubbed his forehead, looking back down at the lines across the page. 

"I hate it," he said, his voice trembling, "but that's what it says. He has to take the company or dissolve it."

"Can you run it from America?" suggested John. 

"No." Lafayette pointed to the line that had given him the company to begin with.  _"To our son Gilbert we also bequeath the entirety of Motier Insurance, to be run from it's country of origin or dissolved, and to which position he shall rise either upon his graduation from college or the death of his caretaker."_ He lifted his head. "I have to run it from France or it still dissolves." His eyes lit up suddenly and he grabbed Alexander's arm. "You can both come with me!"

"What?"

"You can come and live with me, in France. You can stay with me, while I run the company..." 

But Alexander shook his head a little. "This is our home, though."

"Isn't your home with me?"

"Of course, but..." Alexander sighed. "Laf, we can't. We don't have the finances to pick up our lives and move them to France. And besides, I need to be here for my work."

_I need to be here because this country suddenly needs me to._

Lafayette stared down at the paper. "Aren't I worth more to you than money?"

"Aren't I worth more to you than a stupid company?"

"Hey," said John sharply, and they both ducked, ashamed. "Come on, that's not right. We need to stop arguing and figure out what happens next." 

They both looked at Lafayette, who swallowed.

"Friday is the latest I can leave and still make it to her funeral," he said. "I have already bought a ticket. My plane leaves early in the morning. After she died, I went and pulled out of King's and quit the job with the book sellers."

"Okay," said John. "So we have you until Friday morning."

"So tomorrow is the last day we all get together," Alexander finished, standing up. He could feel that he was on the verge of tears again, but he pushed them down. He pulled Lafayette close and held onto him, burying his face against his soulmate's neck.

"Let's make it count," he said. 

 

When Lafayette woke up the next morning, he was halfway out the door of his room before remembering that this was his last day with his soulmates. 

The wall of grief seemed to slam into him all over again, and he was tempted to go back into bed and curl up and cry into his already damp pillow. But they had agreed that today was going to be a good day. They had spent the day before packing, so that they could just focus on each other for their last day. Lafayette shuddered, trying to keep away the fact that he was going to leave the two people he loved most in the world the next morning. Thinking wouldn't fix anything, right? He had to get out there. So he pushed his hair out of his eyes and left the room to face the day, and to make coffee for Alexander like he had since they met. 

On his way to the kitchen, Lafayette passed the couch and there saw the writer sound asleep, with sheets of paper spread around him. Apparently, he had re-read the will to make sure there was nothing he had missed, which was so sweet that Lafayette's heart broke just a little bit more. Lafayette picked up a blanket from the back of the couch and spread it over him, and kissed his forehead, softly, so as not to wake him up. Then he continued into the kitchen. 

John was already standing there, leaning against one of his crutches, reaching up to get the coffee from the shelf. When he heard Lafayette's footsteps he turned around. He leaned his crutches against the wall, carefully, and held out his arms. His soulmate ran right into them. John held him, leaning on him just enough not to topple over.

"I didn't think you'd be awake yet," murmured John. He nuzzled his face into Lafayette's mess of tangled curls, pressed a kiss to the top of his head, trying to keep himself from crying all over again. Trying to memorize everything - the clean smell of his hair, the way it tickled John's face, the way his soulmate fit perfectly into his arms. It seemed so strange that soon this would all be a memory - and not the kind he could spill across a paper with a charcoal pencil. This memory would stick in his mind and cling to his fingertips, almost feeling real, but always a little out of reach.

Lafayette propped his chin against John's shoulder and looked at the phone nearby that was softly humming with music. "What are you listening to?" he asked.

"Just an old playlist. I was going to make the coffee this morning. I thought you'd want to sleep in."

The freshman shook his head. " _Non_ , I do want to make it. Just not this second." 

"Okay." John smiled as the song changed. "Hey, remember this?"

Lafayette smiled a little too. "This is the song we danced to,  _oui_?"

"Right." John took his hand. "Forgive me if I have to lean on you a little."

They danced around the kitchen - staying relatively close to the place they had already been standing, as John found it hard to move on his bad leg. But they made it work. He spun his soulmate around and pulled him back in time to the music. Tomorrow he would be gone. Tomorrow, the slender hand now closed in his would be a thing of the past. 

But for now, Lafayette was here. 

John pulled his soulmate into his arms again as the song ended and didn't realize he was crying until his tears ran down into the boy's curls.

"I love you so much, Lafayette," he whispered.

"I know. I love you too." Lafayette pulled back a little, grabbing John by his arms. "John, I need you to promise me something."

"Okay, anything."

"Promise that you will make sure I get on the plane tomorrow." He held John's gaze. "I will want to stay. Alexander will try to make me stay. But I have to go. You know that I have to go."

John nodded and gathered him up into his embrace again. "I'll try. I promise."

Lafayette kissed his cheek. His lips were soft and warm, and at their gentle brush John broke all over again. 

"For goodness sake, he isn't leaving yet," said Alexander's voice from the doorway. John and Lafayette both turned towards him and held out an arm, and he came over and put his own arms around them. The three of them stood there, like the first time that John had walked through the doors of the old apartment so long ago. And like the many times they had stood this way since, whether it was in celebrating some sort of accomplishment or welcoming each other into the morning, or just looking for a chance to be together.

They stood there and held onto each other. 

None of them spoke. 

None of them had to.

Sometimes words didn't exist for the things that needed to be expressed.

Finally Lafayette pulled back and beckoned John over to the coffee machine. "Come, I will show you how to make coffee the way Alexander likes it. Since you will be making it for him for the foreseeable future." 

Alexander hadn't thought of that, but he didn't like it much. He realized suddenly that he was going to cry again. Lafayette noticed and laughed a little.

"No more crying! We are going to be positive today."

"Positively happy," commented Alexander with a faint laugh, echoing the words that Lafayette had spoken months back, when the essay was published.

"Positive and happy," said John, continuing the phrase.

" _Oui,_ because..." Lafayette trailed off, realizing that _"because Alexander's essay is being published_ _"_ was no longer relevant. A brief silence followed.

"Because we love each other," Alexander finished finally. "And we still will when you're an ocean away."

 

 

Eliza dropped by later to say goodbye.

She had been informed of Lafayette's imminent departure through text message, and caring, understanding girl that she was, understood that they would want to be together for their last day as a trio. 

So she stopped in for a half hour, told Lafayette that he was a good friend and that she was going to miss him. There was an almost sisterly tone in her voice as she laughed and then eventually cried, remembering the various occasions that his life had collided with hers and the times all four of them had spent as, almost, a family. The drive to and from South Carolina, and the night on the floor after the barricade. 

Finally she pushed a Pyrex container of scones into his hands, "for the trip", kissed him on both cheeks like he had kissed her the first time they met, and rushed out the door with tears in her eyes.

Lafayette put the Pyrex container in his suitcase and came back looking forlorn. Alexander studied his beautiful but sad face. This was not the picture of positive or happy. But then, had they honestly been able to convince themselves that such was how the day would go?

He glanced around as if searching for something. And then his eyes fell on the clock. It was a few minutes after one. 

An idea flashed across his mind.

"Everybody up," he said, standing. "Up, come on."

"Where are we going?" asked Lafayette.

"We're making today unforgettable. Get your coat and let's hail a taxi."

"Taxi to where?" called John, but Alexander were already out the door. Lafayette and John followed, equally confused, and then even more so when Alexander popped back through the door, grabbed his wallet, and swung out it again.

"Theatre district," he commanded the driver who stopped for them. "As fast as you can. Please."

"Theatre district?" asked Lafayette and John together. Alexander flipped his phone into Lafayette's lap. 

"Look up the price of Les Mis matinee tickets."

Lafayette stared at the phone, then back at Alexander. "Wait -"

"You heard me."

One second Alexander was reaching for his seatbelt, and the next his soulmate was hugging him so hard that he actually fell over.

"Laf!"

"I love you I love you I love you I love you -"

"Hey," shouted the driver. "Kids, you need to put your seatbelts on."

Lafayette jumped back up into his seat, and hugged Alexander again once his soulmate was next to him. "I cannot believe you. You are amazing. Thank you." 

"Can we get tickets this late, though?" asked John. "The show starts at what, two o'clock?"

"Box office," said Alexander. "Cheaper and more efficient." 

"I think you just spoke in synonyms."

"John, it works, okay?"

John just smiled at him. Alexander rolled his eyes and buckled his seatbelt. Lafayette hugged him yet again.

Tomorrow Alexander was going to lose this amazing person who had completely changed his life. Tomorrow he would be out of reach. He didn't deserve that, but while Alexander still had him, he wanted to make every minute last.

He wanted to give him the world as a parting gift, but he figured giving him Les Mis tickets might, in the beautiful mind hidden under all those frizzy curls, come close enough.

 

 

It turned out that there were plenty of matinee tickets up for grabs, so they managed to get seats without too much trouble. There were lots of alternates filling in, but none of them minded. Alexander decided that the Broadway version was actually a lot better than the movie. Lafayette, obviously, cried about fifteen times in just the first act. When the lights flicked back on for intermission, Alexander looked over at him. He couldn't help himself. 

"If I build a barricade in front of the door, will you never leave?"

Lafayette laughed a little, sadly, and Alexander brushed the tears off of his soulmate's face for what felt like the thousandth time.

 

They got home around five and looked over Lafayette's suitcases to make sure he had everything he needed. His room was completely bare now, and some parts of their home seemed to have thinned out where his things had been packed, with holes already showing in the perfect facade they tried to hold up. It was just a copy of something beautiful that, soon, was no longer to be. 

Still a little restless, and not wanting to linger in memories of the beautiful life that was about to break, they went out and walked around the city, to King's, revisiting the haunts that were now sacred in their minds. 

It seemed so strange that soon there would be all these places to see and no Lafayette to see them. 

"Hey," said Alexander, stopping suddenly at a crossroads of the sidewalk. "This is where we first met."

Lafayette smiled. "That's right! I think I ran into you, _oui_?"

Alexander smiled and kissed his forehead. "I didn't mind at all."

Lafayette beamed. He pushed back his sleeve and held his wrist by Alexander's. Shields. Two small shields, marking the two people who found each other and protected each other through little things - from negative mindsets and fears of rejection and the idea of not being good enough. Well, Alexander hadn't shielded his soulmate from anything. But undoubtedly, this French boy with his sweet voice and his wild hair and his eyes that you could just drown in had rescued him from himself and shaped him into something almost as beautiful as the soul they shared with an artist.

Almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People, I know Les Mis is not on Broadway anymore. I know that matinees are rarely on Thursdays. 
> 
> But tell me - do you want these three to have a moment of happiness before a cruel parting, or are you going to harass me over the little details? 
> 
> I JUST WANT TO GIVE THEM SOME JOY OKAY.
> 
> *sobs in anger at myself*
> 
>  
> 
> That was sappy. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. *bangs head on a frying pan* Bad Dobby! Bad LLL is not good writer. But blame it on my bad mood. I'll come back perky as ever and way better at science to show for it.


	39. Sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lafayette says goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY!!! That last chapter was crap and you guys deserve so much better. But anyway, yeah, I'm back. :D I'm worried some of you are mad at me or offended by what I said about the Alex & Eliza book (I'm constantly worried that I've offended someone) so if I did, I'm so sorry...
> 
> *sobs in insecurity*
> 
> Anyway, um, yeah, I'll try to do a better job on these last two and break your hearts in as many ways as I can, and all that. Thank you for waiting while I was on my one-week hiatus. I really missed you guys. Every single day all I could talk about was how I wanted to come on here and read my comments. 
> 
> So anyway, if you hate me a ton by the end of this I'm sorry, but please do comment because I really love reading comments. Even if you don't hate me and aren't crying please comment.
> 
> There are some cuddles in this chapter but it's not meant in a smutty kind of way. Everything's very pure. Very sweet. At least I think so. Hopefully you will too.

The sun set, and Alexander knew that when it climbed above the sky again they would be watching it. And then, at this time tomorrow, Lafayette would be gone.

They decided not to stay up all night. Alexander thought that if he tried to make it through that many hours he would become exhausted and heartbroken all over again, and then by extent act obnoxious as he knew he sometimes could. So around nine, which was early for all of them, Alexander suggested they try to sleep. 

Then Lafayette remembered that his sheets and blankets had all been packed in his suitcase, at around the same time that Alexander and John realized neither of them wanted to let him out of their sight. 

Finally they just dragged a bunch of blankets out of the storage closet, knocked the couch cushions down, and curled up on the living room floor. At first they were distanced by a few feet, but eventually Alexander and John both moved closer to Lafayette. Alexander put his head against his soulmate's shoulder and felt an arm wrap around him. 

"It's okay, Alexander," Lafayette said softly. Alexander wasn't quite sure what "it" was supposed to be - if the fact that he was leaving tomorrow, this was clearly a lie. But then, Lafayette had been keeping them happy for months now, and it wasn't too surprising that that would continue even on the eve of his departure. He glanced over at John, who also looked like he had come to this conclusion, even though the words weren't addressed to him. He slung an arm around Lafayette and closed his eyes.

Time passed, and Alexander fought to stay awake, afraid that if he closed his eyes for even a second, he would wake up and his soulmate would already be gone. This fear was totally unfounded, but present all the same. He blinked and rubbed his eyes. 

"Alexander, go to sleep," mumbled John without even looking at him. Apparently, he could just tell. 

"I will still be here when you wake up,  _cheri._ "

Alexander sighed and finally let himself drift away. John soon followed, leaving Lafayette awake, listening to their breathing and trying to fight off the nightmare that was tomorrow. 

 

The morning came, and when it did, the three soulmates stood upon the roof watching it light up the sky. They would have liked to stay there forever and watch as the plane that was supposed to carry Lafayette away zoomed across the glowing horizon, but knew that it was not allowed. His choice had been made for him. 

They all climbed down the ladder reluctantly and went back down to their apartment. Lafayette made coffee for the last time, and John made breakfast. Alexander got the suitcases for his soulmate and checked his room to make sure nothing was missing. When he went back into the kitchen, he leaned against the doorframe and watched them both for a while, before saying, 

"This isn't fair."

Lafayette nodded, not offering any comment. Alexander leaned his head back against the frame. 

He had wanted so much more than what he had been given. He wanted to see the spring with his soulmates, and the summer. He wanted them with him as he slowly rose up to the fame he had craved for so long. But he didn't just want one of them, he wanted them both. Now he would always feel like a part of him was missing. It wasn't fair, it truly wasn't. Lafayette deserved the world and everything Alexander could give him in it. Instead...

He had no idea how to express this, or even if he could. But he decided to try. 

"I wish I could have seen every sunrise with you." 

Lafayette came over to him and handed him his coffee. "I wish I could have been the sunrise for you, _mon amour_ _._ "

John could find no poetic words to contribute to this, so he merely whispered, "I wish you could stay."

 

They left for the airport around seven. 

Lafayette left the apartment last, and then joined them in the cab a few moments later. Alexander squeezed his hand.

"Are you ready?" 

He shook his head. "No." He turned to the cab driver. "JFK Airport, please." 

The car sped off, and Lafayette slumped in his seat. 

 

Alexander and John followed him through the airport, each dragging one of their soulmate's suitcases. With every step they took, Lafayette felt his throat clenching up, and his heart speeding up a little bit. In less than an hour his soulmates would be gone from his life. He would have left them. Would he be crying or would he just be numb? 

They checked the times, hoping that the plane would be delayed... or that it would be broken and he would be able to stay. But it was still on for the exact time as usual. Lafayette thought he was going to break down right there, but John laid a gentle hand on his back.

"It's okay," he said. "It's okay, Lafayette. Keep going."

Lafayette nodded, and they kept going.

Finally, outside of the gate, the security told Alexander and John that they couldn't go onto the plane without a ticket. For a moment Lafayette prepared to protest. It was so against his instinct to be told that his soulmates were going to be kept from him that he almost forgot why he was here to begin with. Then he remembered.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye," said Alexander, trying to put on a smile. It didn't work. Lafayette's eyes filled up with tears again, and he threw his arms around his soulmates, trying to keep from sobbing. 

John and Alexander caught him and held on, not caring that everyone nearby was staring at them. This was real, and he was leaving. 

"I love you both so much," Lafayette wept. "I-" He buried his face in John's shoulder. "I don't want to leave." 

"Then stay," whispered Alexander. "Just stay here."

"Laf," John said urgently. He pulled back a little and pressed his forehead against his soulmate's. "Remember what you told me yesterday?" he reminded him, trailing his fingertips gently along Lafayette's cheek. "You made me promise that you would get on the plane. Now you have to be brave." 

Lafayette nodded and squeezed his eyes shut. "But I'm going to miss you so much." 

"Hey," said Alexander, brushing away his tears again. He glanced over at John, who just nodded. "You have to do this. If you have to leave, then be... strong..." He swallowed. Words had completely failed him. He hugged Lafayette tighter. 

"Sir," said the man standing outside the plane's entrance, "the flight is leaving in five minutes -"

All three soulmates looked at him and said, "Shut up!" He retreated back to the stand. They clung to each other for a moment longer. Then Lafayette pulled back a little, but held onto their hands.

"When I'm gone..."

"We'll call you every day."

"Good." He smiled a little, but the smile faltered. "I..." 

John reached up and kissed his cheek. "I love you," he said for him.

"So do I," added Alexander, realizing how weak that sounded only after it had been said. He pulled Lafayette into another quick hug. 

"Please don't forget about me," his soulmate whispered. It occurred to Alexander that this was what he had been worried about this whole time. He lifted his right hand, the one with the shield on that wrist, onto his soulmate's face.

"Forget you?" He tried to laugh. "I can't forget you if I tried. You're written on my skin."

Then the man was insisting that Lafayette board the plane, and they were clinging to each other again, crying a little and saying, "I love you. I love you," over and over again. 

"Sir," said the man more firmly. 

Lafayette kissed them on both cheeks. "Thank you for giving me the best months of my life," he whispered. "I love you. I love you both." 

Alexander tried to say something, but then Lafayette's hand fell out of his and his soulmate ran over to the gateway. He handed his ticket to the man and then, as he checked it, glanced back at his soulmates. There were tears running down his face, but through them, he smiled. For an instant the world lit up and there was no one in it but the three of them. 

He was beautiful. 

And then he was gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mon amour means "my love".
> 
>  
> 
> Last chapter coming soon!


	40. Finale: How to Say Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander and John return home. 
> 
> A love letter has been left on the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so since this is my last chapter, I feel like I have to give some acknowledgements. I'll put them here so you can finish the fic without having to read through all my rants... feel free to skip this.
> 
> First I obviously have to thank all of your for sticking with me through 40 chapters and 70k + words. I never could have dreamed that so many people would love this story and I am so thankful. You guys have left me beautiful comments, you've encouraged me when I wondered if I should keep going, and you've made me the happiest Laflams shipper on the planet simply be being here for me. I love every single one of you, even if we've never spoken. I just have this enormous sense of love for you because of your devotion to my words. Thank you for staying. Thank you for enjoying. If I have entertained you, if I have made you feel things that you wouldn't have gotten from everyday life, I will consider this work a success. 
> 
> I also am just so grateful for how much God has blessed me with this story and letting me get my words out here. Thank you, Lord.
> 
> Last but obviously not least, I really have to thank the amazing trio of Hamilton, Laurens, and Lafayette for existing. I don't know if they're reading this from Heaven or not, but if they are - let me say that your love story has been an absolute joy to research, even though I've obviously changed things a lot for narrative purposes. I honestly can't wait to meet you all. Thank you. A million times. 
> 
> So here on the shores of Feels Ocean, we come to the end of our fellowship. Please follow me because I am NOT done with these boys, even though this story has closed... in fact, somewhere down the road, you will be able to hold different words about them, still written by me, in your hands....
> 
> Okay, I'm just going to announce it. I have begun research for a novel about the trio, set during the American Revolution. With a lot of work by me and my editor, and some patience on your part, my book about Hamilton, Laurens, and Lafayette will be yours to own in hopefully less time than I'm projecting.
> 
> Now, without further ado, please enjoy this final chapter of "Destiny Put Us All in One Spot."

John had made it through a nightmare of a childhood and been dragged out of depression. He had been slashed by a broken windshield and knocked into a coma, and then he had woken up without the use of one of his legs. All of these things had been struggles, difficult points in his life. And he had survived all of them.

But when he kicked off the shoe from his good leg and saw only one other pair hit the wall beside it, he honestly thought that it might have been better if he had died. To have died rather than to see the day when Lafayette would be gone. 

On the car ride here, that song had come on, the one they danced to. He had made the cab driver turn the radio off. 

Alexander looked over at him and saw that he seemed numb as well.

"I just can't believe he's gone," said John quietly.

"It's not like he died." Alexander swallowed. "I mean, we can still email him. We can talk on the phone and video chat; it's not like this is the 18th century or..."

But his words died away.

"It's not the same," John said.

It was so strange that now they were going to live without the person who had brightened their life, who had looked after both of them just to make sure that they were happy and that they had everything they needed. Alexander was the person he confided in, true, who he trusted most, and the person who he gave his dark side up to. But Lafayette had been the one who made him laugh, the one who lit him up and coaxed a smile onto his face. Now, he and Alexander would have to figure out how to be light for each other.

He loved Alexander. But he loved Lafayette too. 

"Hey," said Alexander, from the living room. John swung himself over on his crutches, and Alexander held up an envelope. With their names written on it. 

"A letter?" 

"Looks like it." John knew that they were both remembering February 15th, the former Worst Day Ever that had become the best with the love letters their soulmate had written. Alexander ripped open the envelope and surveyed the two sheets of paper that came out. "There's just one. It's addressed to both of us."

John sat down on the couch. "Why don't you read it out loud?"  _And I'd promised myself I wouldn't cry any more today,_ he thought. 

"Okay." Alexander sat down next to him and swallowed. John reached over and slipped his left hand into Alexander's right.

"It's not in French, is it?"

"No. I'll try to make it through without crying." 

"Me too. Go on." 

Alexander drew a breath and started reading. 

 

_"My dearest, John and Alexander._

_I know again that I put the comma in the wrong place, but trust me, it was very intentional. You two have come to be dearer to me than anything in this world. These past few months that I have been able to spend with you have been the best of my entire life. You gave me everything I could ever have hoped for when I was younger and dreamed about meeting my soulmates. I never could have imagined just how wonderful you both would be._

_While I'm writing this, I am here on the floor with the two of you sound asleep on either side of me. When you read it, you will be in the same room, while I'm crying somewhere in the sky._

_But I did not write this so you would feel bad for me. I wrote it for the same reason that John let me steal sketches from his room - so that when I'm gone, you will have something of me and I will have something of both of you. I guess that we should focus on how lucky we are to be alive right now, when there is email and cell phones and FaceTime and all that. Technically, I could pretend that I am right next to you if I put a phone to my ear and close my eyes. But sadly I know it's not going to be the same. If I can't hold your hands in mine and feel your fingers run through my hair; if I can't look into your eyes and smile at you and see that you love me written all over your face, then it is really not the same._

_I truly hope that this is not goodbye. While I'm here in France, I am going to do everything I can to get my father's company back on it's feet and secure the lives of the five thousand people I gave you up for. Then maybe, if I can bring value back to it, someone will buy the company and I can make my way back to you. Then we can always be together for every sunrise. We're just going to have to make it through this night first, and we will do it the way we have made it through every night before this - together. We escaped John's dad, we fixed his depression, and we did not watch him die. We got Alexander's essay published and we found a way to all be together. So I think we can make it through this too._

_Even if something horrible happens, though, and I never get to see you again, I will always treasure the moments that I got to spend with you. I'll think of you, both of you, every day. And I'll cry a little, but then maybe I'll look at my marks and hear your words through the phone, and I'll start to heal. I hope that you both realize that you are luckier men then I will ever be - you each have one of your soulmates, and I just lost both of mine._

_I digress, as Alexander might say. (Would you say that, Alexander? Right now I'm here beside you but when you read this question you won't be able to answer.) I have something I want to say to both of you individually before I keep saying things to you together._

_Alexander. My sweet, beautiful Alexander. You can never possibly imagine how much I love you. Since I first met you, I have been your friend and very intimate friend. Now that I am about to leave you, my feelings for you have increased to such a point that the world has no idea of them. I adore you with every cell in me. I also need to tell you that you are the smartest person I have ever met, Alexander (no offense, John). And whether you decide to stay with the New York Post or leave them, whether Thomas Jefferson is beaten in your ongoing online war or somehow triumphs, whether you keep writing or switch to something else - you will be successful in anything you put your mind to. You're going to change the world some day, Alexander. And even if you don't (which is impossible), I just want you to know that I am so proud of you,_ _cheri. So very proud. I love you so much. Please never forget that. And when you finish this letter, go out there and write something for me._

_John, the same as I told Alexander - there are no words for the way or the depth to which I love you. You are so brilliant, but in a completely different way than him. Like I said when you were helping me with the questions for the infographics, you are so strong. You go through all these bad things and you hold your head up high; you make life good for me and Alexander even when it is so hard for you to do that. Now because I make the rules, even if I no longer live with you, I command that you must start selling your artwork online. You truly see people for who they are, and you capture them in ways that no one else ever could. I think that maybe you use those charcoal pencils to do magic. Either way, John, your gift is too incredible not to share with the rest of the world. I would recommend using Alexander as the model for your portrait sketches. He is maybe just cute enough to make you rich. If Alexander is going to change the world, I think, John, that perhaps you are going to save it._

_I am not nearly as smart as the two of you are, but I do know that we were made to find each other. It still shocks me that we were destined to leave each other, so I can't believe that this separation is permanent. One thing that I do know for a fact is this: even if I was born a thousand years and a million miles away, I still would have found my way to you. To both of you. You are a part of me, and I'll keep you with me until the day that I die._

_Please be happy. Love each other. Watch the sunrise. Sketch the turtle. Change the world. And every once in a while, turn on the songs I liked and remember me._

_I've said it so many times now, but I am going to say it once more: I love you, both of you, more than you will ever know and maybe even more than I will ever know. And I am going to believe that perhaps you both somehow love me just as much - in fact, I know that you do, because you told me so. So before I finish this, I am going to make one last request of you. On February 15th, I expect to see two love letters in my inbox - beautifully written and far too long, with commas in all the wrong places._

_Tomorrow I'll kiss you both goodbye and then we'll see what happens next. I'm not afraid, though. I know that we will be okay. And even when I'm gone I'll carry you both on my wrists and in my heart - and in all the little moments that you gave me leading up to this one._

_Watch the sunrise for me tomorrow._

_I love you._

 

_-Lafayette."_

Alexander set the letter down softly and looked over at John. Through the tears in his own eyes, he noticed some rolling down John's face. He squeezed the hand that was lost in his. 

"We never deserved him," said John quietly.

"Maybe not." Alexander ran his fingertips over the nine letters at the end of the letter and closed his eyes. "No, we never deserved him. But he chose us anyway." He ran his thumb over John's hand, clinging to the soulmate he still had. He opened his eyes and stared down into John's, just as deep and sea-green as they had been on that October day  so many months ago. "Like I told Jefferson a while back," he said, "it's not about loving someone because they have your mark on their wrist." He ran his thumb down over the small quill pen on John's wrist. "It's about finding them, loving them, and knowing you would have chosen them anyway." 

Lafayette had chosen them. Despite their faults and their flaws, he had accepted both of them into his heart easily and totally. Alexander had accepted both of them. So though he had a suspicion, he needed to know. 

"Will you choose me, John?" Alexander asked quietly. 

John kissed his hand in answer.

No, perhaps Alexander had never deserved them, either of them. Perhaps he could change the world like they said, and do every good thing a person could conceivably do, and still never deserve them. Perhaps he would spend the rest of his life searching for a way to pay them back for simply existing. Either way, it would never matter.

John Laurens and Lafayette were his all the same. 


End file.
